The Land of FourDee
by RayKay72
Summary: A married Nick and Jess navigating the world as parents, with their friends by their sides. A series of one shots in a Ness future fic. Nope I do not own New Girl.
1. Chapter 1

Seven-year-old Sophie Miller bounced into bed, pulling her Disney princess sheets up to her chin. "Momma," she said sweetly, pushing her unruly brown hair away from her large, blue eyes, "tell us the story about how the prince and princess met."

Jess laughed as she tucked the sheet around her daughter and pulled up a fuzzy blanket. "Not tonight, Sophie, it's getting late." She reached over to give 5-year-old Walt a nudge up into the bed next to his sister's. "I wanna hear the story, too, Mamma," he said.

"Little ones need their rest," Jess said softly, kissing Walt, then Sophie, on the head. She looked at both of them, and her heart melted a little. Tucked into bed were little pieces of her and Nick. The thought always made her smile.

"Pleeeeeese, Momma," Sophie begged. "If you tell us the story, you won't hear a peep out of us the rest of the night."

Jess looked into her daughter's eyes that mirrored her own. She thought of how Nick always told her it was pure revenge that Sophie took after her mother. _I haven't been able to say no to those eyes for two years,_ he told Jess in the hospital as they looked at their newborn. _Now you'll know what it's like to try and refuse those baby blues. _She looked over at Walt. She had just as tough a time refusing a mini-Nick Miller. She could swear Walt gave her a turtle face before he even cried for the first time. She tried not to giggle at the thought. "All right," she sighed, "but just the short version tonight."

"Whoohoo!" yelped Walt in delight. He snuggled next to his mother as she sat on his bed. She pushed her hand gently through his dark hair. Walt peered up at Jess expectantly with his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Once upon a time," Jess began, "there was a sad princess who was trapped with a giant with enchanted hair. Any time he would shake his head, his enchanted hair would cast a spell and the princess would shrink until felt about thiiiiis big." Jess held her finger and thumb close together. "For years, the princess went around feeling very small and very sad."

"Dumb giant," mumbled Walt. "I wanna punch him in the nose!"

"Walter Nicholas, what have I told you about punching?" Jess admonished slightly, trying to keep the smile from her lips.

"No punching," he grumbled, and crossed his arms tightly.

"That's right," Jess said.

Sophie sighed loudly. "Momma, 'and then one day…,'" she said, motioning for her mother to continue the story.

"And then, one day, the princess realized she did not have to be so small, and she escaped!" Jess declared, and Sophie clapped. "She wandered and wandered, but she had forgotten who she was! With nowhere to go, she stumbled upon a tall tower in a place called FourDee. From the tower, she could see much of the land. Living there was a prince and two brave knights. The prince and the brave knights let the sad princess stay with them."

"Daddy says one of the knights is the Duke of D-bag, and the symbol on his shield is a jar," said Walt. He sat up and looked at Jess. "What does that mean, Momma?"

"It means daddy needs to stop adding to the story," laughed Jess.

As if hearing his name, Nick peered into the room. "Hey guys, you still up?"

"Daddy!" squealed Sophie and launched herself at Nick, wrapping herself around his legs. He scooped his little girl into his arms and walked over to Jess. "Sorry I'm late. Big Bob needed to come in later than usual." He brushed a stray hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

Sophie looked at Nick. "Daddy, if you own the bar, then why do you have to work late, ever?" she asked.

"Because daddy has a lot of responsibility," said Jess. "He takes care of a lot of people."

"Whoever thought anyone would say that about your old man," Nick said with a laugh and ruffled Walt's hair. "You guys con another story from your mom?"

"The prince and the princess in the land of FourDee," said Sophie as Nick placed her down gently on her bed.

"Again?" he laughed.

"I wanted to punch the giant," scowled Walt.

"That's my boy," said Nick.

"Nicholas!" Jess hissed and flashed her eyes at him.

Nick sat up taller. "That's my boy for NOT punching, because punching is not a cool thing to do."

Jess covered her mouth to hide her smile.

Sophie tapped her father on the leg. "The prince was about to let the princess stay, so she could remember who she was," she said. Then she shook her head. "But it wasn't easy, because…"

"Don't say it!" yelled Walt, before he scampered up the bed and threw the sheet over his head.

Sophie grinned, "The evil sorceress!" Walt squeaked from under the sheet. He yelled, "She breaks grown men in half and makes them cry and drink a lot of albobol, and not want to go outside!"

Jess looked at Nick. "Did you tell him that?" Nick shrugged and lifted his hands up. "No way!" Both parents stopped for a moment and looked slowly at Sophie who was doing her best to whistle nonchalantly. "Sophie?" Jess asked, with a clear warning in her voice.

Sophie sighed. "I may have asked Uncle Winnie and Uncle Schmitty about the evil sorceress once or twice," she said, looking down. She glanced up, repentant. "I only tell Walt he will come for her when he rips the feathers off my feeling stick."

Jess pursed her lips and shook her head. "We'll talk about this later, young lady." She leaned over to Walt, pulling lightly on the sheet to urge him to come out. "It's all right, Walt. You know what stops the evil sorceress, don't you?" The sheet wiggled back and forth as Walt shook his head. "Come on, sweetie, we'll do it together." Slowly the sheet eased down. "Okay," Jess said. "How do we make the evil sorceress go away? One…two…"

"This is really NOT necessary, is it?" Nick sighed.

"Three! Turtle face!" yelled Jess, Sophie and Walt, who whipped the sheet off his head. All three did a perfect impression of Nick in full turtle-face mode. Nick, however, did not have to pretend, as the corners of his mouth were already in a frown. "Very funny, everyone." His little family dissolved into giggles, even Walt, and Nick could only smile.

"So the prince cast off the evil sorceress with his turtle face, but they still were not together," Jess said. Walt crawled out of his bed and held his hands up to his father. Nick picked him up and pulled Walt into the bed beside him as Sophie wrapped her hands around Nick's arm.

"The prince and princess had to battle the Sands of Grumpiness, the Amber Waves of Grain, the Waterfall of Broken Glass, The Doom of Valet Tickets, coyotes, badgers, …."

"The Land of Excessive Singing…" murmured Nick.

"I don't remember that one, daddy," said Sophie. She looked to Jess. "Momma, you are skipping a LOT."

"Short version tonight, sweetie," she reminded her. Sophie sighed. "Okay, okay, so tell the last part, momma."

"After all these trials, the prince and the princess thought it might be better if they stayed apart. That he would go back to ruling his kingdom, and she would return to a land of rainbows and unicorns," said Jess. She looked up and caught Nick's eye. She could tell they were thinking the same thing. _We came so close to losing all this. To losing each other. We almost let it slip away. _She smiled softly. "But then, the princess remembered who she was! She was a strong, independent woman who fought for what she wanted. And she wanted to be with the prince, no matter what happened." Nick smiled at her and winked.

"And they rode off in a chariot together," Sophie finished with a sigh. "I love that story."

Nick pulled his daughter close. "Me too, kiddo." In one move, he swooped off the bed and grabbed Walt. He tossed him in the air, catching him just before he landed on his bed. Walt erupted in a peel of giggles. "Again, daddy!"

"Not tonight, little man," he ruffled Walt's hair. Jess leaned down and kissed his head before doing the same with Sophie.

"Goodnight Little Millers," said Nick and he and Jess went to the door of their room. Jess turned out the light. "Sleep well, my darlings."

Jess turned to go. "Momma?" came Sophie's voice. Jess looked back into the room, illuminated by the colorful nightlight. "Yes, sweetie?"

"When did the prince and princess fall in love?" Sophie asked.

"Early on, I imagine," said Jess. She felt Nick's hand ease into hers and squeeze softly.

"When did they tell each other? That they loved each other?" Sophie's voice drifted from the darkened room.

"Not soon enough, kiddo," Nick said. "It was, like, a whole season later."

"Okay," Sophie said with a yawn. She rolled over and pulled her blanket up to her chin. "Goodnight momma and daddy."

"Goodnight, baby girl," Nick said. He pulled Jess away from the door and down the hall.

"You had a long day, are you hungry?" she asked quietly.

Nick opened the door to their room. "It's been much too long since I've had my Day – my Ms. Day," whispered Nick as he pulled his wife to him and covered her mouth with his own.

When she finally pulled away, Jess was breathless. "Why, Mr. Miller, you shock me!" she drawled in the over-the-top voice of a Southern belle.

Nick laughed huskily. "Hey doll, I'm new in town. You mind giving Julius Pepperwood a tour of this FourDee place? And, uh doll, maybe we could start with the Land of Nerdy Weird Sex?"

Jess giggled, and Nick once again asked himself how he could be the luckiest son-of-a-gun on the planet. "Right this way, Mr. Pepperwood." Jess led him into the bedroom and closed the door.

Back in bed, Walt yawned. "Our parents are so weird."

Sophie smiled. "Yeah."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The Funeral

**Thanks for the reviews! I had planned on this being a one-shot, but had requests to continue, so I have some ideas for a few more chapters. **

**As always, I do not own New Girl, sigh. **

Sophie stood looking at the ground with her hands at her sides, pulling her thumbs across her fingers over and over. She did her best to hold back a quiet sob, but Nick still heard. He leaned over and put his arm around his daughter, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

In Nick's arms, Walt did little to hide the huge tears that rolled down his face. Occasionally, he would drag the sleeve of his dark shirt across his runny nose. Nick wished he was one of those dads who always carried and handkerchief. He was pretty sure his dad always had one. That, and a flask of whiskey. Right now Nick could use both.

Jess stood at the front of the gravesite, her modest, black dress coming just below her knees. She took a breath and gave her children a sad smile. "Today is a sad day for the Miller family, because today we lost one of our own."

Sophie choked on another sob, and Nick did his best not to roll his eyes as he comforted his children.

Jess continued, "Bubbles was a great goldfish. He was always there when we came downstairs in the morning, with a fishy smile that brightened our day." Nick looked at Jess, and tried not to smile. Only she could make it sound as though a stinky goldfish was one of the family.

At first, Nick had resisted the idea of a goldfish funeral. _Let me just flush it down the toilet, Jess_. The look of shock she gave him made Nick realize he was doomed. Now here he stood, in the late spring heat, in his best suit, while Jess gave a touching eulogy of the finer qualities of Bubbles.

Nick thought about the fair where he had won the fish for his kids. It had been a rough night at the bar the evening before. His distributors were upping their prices – again, his latest jerry-rigged fix on the air conditioner did not seem to last more than a few days, and a new bartender broke three bottles in an attempt to imitate the movie Cocktail. _What kind of an idiot does that? _Nick had shouted at the kid.

The morning of the fair, he had been in no mood for overpriced food, death-trap rides and sketchy carnival workers, and he told Jess so. But she had smiled that sweet-Jess smile, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him lightly on the lips. "What you need is a day not to think about anything. Just enjoy your family."

_Not think. Just enjoy_. Nick had been working on that since the first day he met Jess. It always seemed easier when she was next to him. He sighed, relaxing into her arms and giving her a proper kiss. "Okay, Jess, but when Walt gets hyped up on funnel cake, I'm blaming you."

Fairs were definitely on the bottom of Nick's list of things-he-wanted-to-do, ever. But he did get a kick out of watching the kids scream with delight on the kiddie rides – the ones he deemed safe enough for them. It was when they passed a booth with giant teddy bears hanging on the walls where the trouble started.

"Oooooh, daddy, can I get a teddy bear?" Sophie asked.

Jess looked up at the bear. "You have to win the bear, Sophie, and that game looks like a big-people game. Why don't we go and get our faces painted instead?" Walt let out a whoop and declared he wanted a big snake on his face. Sophie looked disappointed, but turned to follow her mom.

Nick had no idea why he did it, but he grabbed Sophie's hand and marched over to the booth. "What do I gotta do to win the bear?" Nick demanded of the kid behind the counter, who looked closer in age to Sophie than himself. He forked over a couple of dollars and picked up a battered softball, ready to hurl it at a very study looking stack of bottles.

Jess and Walt walked over to the counter. "Whatcha doing, daddy?" Walt asked.

Nick launched a ball at the bottles, and it flew wide. "Trying to knock down the bottles, kiddo." He whipped another ball that hit the table on which the bottles were perched, and they wobbled slightly. He squeezed the last ball and let it fly. It tipped one of the bottles, but they remained in place. His head snapped to the kid. "What kind of game you runnin' here?" he barked. "That hit the bottle!"

Jess rolled her eyes at Nick. "Okay, daddy, that's enough. Kids, let's all give daddy a big hand for trying to knock down the bottles!"

Walt and Sophie clapped loudly, but Nick was already throwing down another couple of dollars. "Let's go!" he yelled at the kid, who timidly placed three more balls in front of him.

Jess stepped in front of Nick. "Three more, Nick, and then we go get faces painted," she said firmly, with a look of determination he knew well.

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure." He waited for her to move, but she remained in place. "Nick," she said in a low voice. "This is not a cactus, it is not a tomato plant, and it is not a door that says Pull."

"I hate doors," murmured Nick. He looked at his wife. "No worries, Jess. I got this," he smiled tightly. She rolled her large, blue eyes at him and moved aside.

Nick looked at Jess now, standing at the front of tiny gravesite she dug for a goldfish. It had not been three more tries, or six or nine. Nick hadn't even noticed when she led the kids away for face painting. Somehow those dang bottles became all the stuff Nick felt like he could not conquer. Finally, finally he managed to somehow knock the top bottle off the stack. The kid timidly handed him a plastic bag of water with an anemic-looking goldfish inside.

When he tracked down his family, happily munching on funnel cake and recounting the funny man at the ferris wheel whom they all now seemed to know as "Hank," Nick shoved the bag with the sad, little goldfish at his daughter.

Sophie's eyes became huge. "Is this for us, daddy?" she practically whispered over a mouth full of funnel cake. Nick shrugged and nodded. She jumped up and wrapped powdered sugar-covered hands around her father. "Oh, daddy! He's beautiful! He's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!"

Jess was beaming at him. It was one of those smiles that twisted his insides, even after years of being married. "What should we call him?" she asked the kids.

Walt had his face pushed up against the plastic, staring unblinking at the fish. "He is Bubbles," Walt said simply and sat back.

Going home later that day, Jess slipped her hand into Nick's. "Thank you for today," she said. "I can't believe you got us a pet!"

He smiled and laughed lightly. "I think I plunked down about $40 on a goldfish that will probably croak in a couple of days."

Jess pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. "That just proves that you, sir, are a born romantic." Nick rolled his eyes at her, but the smile spread wide across his face.

"Losing Bubbles is hard for our family because he brought us so much joy," Jess said, as Nick refocused on the funeral at hand. That little bugger had managed to live about six months, far surpassing Nick's lifespan guess of a day or two. And now, here he stood, at a fish funeral, comforting his teary children.

"Daddy, say something about Bubbles," Sophie pulled at his hand.

"Um, baby, this is not my thing," he started to explain. But one look in Sophie's eyes and Nick cleared his throat. He set Walt down and folded his hands together, trying to look somber. He thought back to his father's funeral, grasping for something to say. Nick figured saying how cool it was that he was mean to cabbies would not apply here. "Well," he said slowly, then looked into Jess' eyes. His breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful, even at a fake funeral. "When you love someone, it's tough to imagine ever letting that someone go. Unless, of course, someone is willing to dress up as Elvis and sing for you."

Jess gave him a knowing smile. "What, daddy?" Sophie asked.

"Nothing, sweetheart," Nick said quickly. "The point is, we'll all miss Bubbles, but the main thing to remember is to enjoy the people you care about while they are here before, you know, we all float upside down in the fish bowl…um…of life."

Sophie patted her father's hand. "That was nice, daddy," she said.

Walt sniffled. "Can we get a turtle now?"

Nick looked at his son. "A turtle? Huh. Why not?"

Walt wiped his nosed on his sleeve. "I want a big one I can ride. The kind they have on the Balopabos Islands."

Jess reached down to Walt with a soft handkerchief in her hand. As she gently wiped his face, Nick smiled. "Maybe something a little smaller at first, okay big guy?" Nick said. Walt nodded.

Sophie lifted her head and squared her shoulders. "Okay, everyone. Uncle Schmitty has left us some canapés and mango chutney for the wake," she said, and headed for the house.

"You sound like a dork when you say it like that, 'chut-a-knee,'" yelled Walt as he dashed after her.

"Do not use the word 'dork,' Walt. It's not nice," said Jess. She turned to follow the children and Nick grabbed her arm. "A very nice funeral, Mrs. Miller."

She gave him a quick kiss, and took his hand in hers. Nick sighed as she pulled him toward the house. Now he had to figure out what the hell a canapé was. It was all part and parcel of being married to Jessica Day Miller, and Nick would not have traded it for the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – That All You Got?**

**Okay, I have ALWAYS loved Coach. Even though I adore Winston (his delivery of the "bleed out" line from the finale is seriously one of my favorites in the series), I want to see Coach back. So here's another Miller family scene. **

Walt closed his eyes as the wind rushed through his smooth, dark hair. "Higher, mamma!" he yelled at Jess, who pushed him in a swing. Smiling, she complied and Walt let out a whoop of joy.

Jess watched as Sophie let a smaller child go in front of her on the slide. She caught her daughter's eye and nodded in approval. Sophie waved at her mother with a smile before taking her turn.

The sound of a basketball hitting the cracked pavement let Jess know the boys were ready to play. She glanced over at the court. "Knock 'em dead, Miller!" she yelled. Nick looked her way and winked before jogging to the bench beside the court.

"No sending unfair good karma toward your hubby, Jessica!" Schmidt declared. He ripped off his sweatshirt, leaving only a tight, black tank top on. He shoved Nick with his shoulder. "That all you got, son? That all you got?"

Nick shoved back. "We haven't started yet, Schmidt."

Schmidt smiled. "I'm just psyching you out, man. Psyching. You. Out." He danced around Nick, who seriously contemplated taking Jess' advice literally. He looked at Winston. "You ready, man?"

"Just waiting for the dancing man to finish his warm ups," Winston said with a laugh as he pulled off his sweats.

Schmidt continued to hop from one foot to another. "That's right, fools. I will dance RINGS around you."

Nick laughed. "Sure thing, Twinkle Toes."

Schmidt stopped and looked down. "Why do you have to go after my toes, man? You know I cannot help the thick nails," he mumbled in a small voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. "He's all yours, Coach."

Coach jumped in front of Schmidt. "All right man, you ready to go?" He started to run in place in front of Schmidt, who copied his moves. "You ready to GO?"

"YEAH!" yelled Schmidt.

"Who is ready to GO!" yelled Coach.

"It's me! ME!" yelled Schmidt.

Winston dribbled the ball near Nick. "You sure it's a good idea to have them on the same team? Fire and gasoline come to mind."

"Less bloodshed this way," Nick said.

Jess looked down at her watch. She knew she needed to get the kids over there if they were going to see the guys play. Last time, it broke up after about five minutes because Schmidt wanted to call a "hair-messing foul" on Winston.

She pulled Walt from the swing and walked over to Sophie. "Let's go see the boys play, Sophie," she called as her daughter nodded and skipped to her mother. As Jess walked closer, she noticed a couple of female joggers about to run past the court. She quickly looked at her watch again.

"Time!" Schmidt yelled, and walked over the bench. He took out his water bottle and splashed it on his face. Looking up, he ripped off his tank top, just as the women made their way past. "Ladies, a great day for a workout," he said.

Nick pointed to Jess. "Three minutes and five seconds," she yelled. Nick pumped his fist as Winston and Coach each grabbed a dollar out of their shoes and slapped them into Nick's hand.

"What is all this?" Schmidt asked with a nervous smile.

"Oh, all this?" Nick snapped the edges of the money in his hands. "This is a bet to see how long it would take you to lose that bikini strap of a shirt you were wearing." Nick stopped and looked at the money. "Coach, how long has your dollar been in your shoe?" he asked with a tinge of horror. Coach shrugged.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Schmidt asked.

Winston smiled. "Oh, Coach had you losing your shirt in the first minute, but Nick had before five minutes." He walked past Schmidt and patted his abs. "I never thought you would make it onto the court with it."

Schmidt looked at Coach. "Et tu, Cocahe?"

Coach walked over and put a strong arm on Schmidt's shoulder. "Now man, you know what I think. You GOT the goods, so you GOT to show them off."

Schmidt's smile returned. "That's right! Yeah, I got the goods, baby!" He jumped back onto the court. "Come on, Coach. Skins versus pudgy men! Let's show them how it's done!"

Coach smiled and jogged back to the court. "No way I am taking off my shirt man. Way too douchey." Nick and Winston laughed.

"Are they gonna play, or are they all done?" asked Walt.

"We're still going, little Miller," said Winston, ruffling Walt's hair. "How is the moustache coming?" Walt pushed out his upper lip and tilted his head up toward Winston. "Oh yeah, I can see it coming in great." Walt smiled.

Sophie tugged at Winston's shorts. "Try the box-and-one defense, Uncle Winnie," she said. Winston winked at her and jogged back to the court.

Jess smiled. "Perhaps our children should spend less time with their godparents, Nick," she said with a laugh. It had been a tense few weeks after Jess and Nick told the guys they were pregnant. Both Schmidt and Winston assumed they would be the godfather. Schmidt went on a spending spree of baby stores, and Winston could not stop reciting lines from the movie The Godfather. After seeing how it was stressing out his pregnant wife, Nick threw his hoodie up over his head and declared them both the godfather.

The christening had been interesting, to say the least. As Cece stood on one side of their new baby girl, Schmidt and Winston stood on the other. So many people congratulated Schmidt and Winston on "coming out so publically" that Nick decided they HAD to do it all again when Walt was born.

"Hey, Mrs. Miller, you wanna keep our ill-gotten gains?" he handed the money to Jess.

"You betcha, Johnny. I won't let the cops onto our racket," she looked at the money and picked it up carefully. "How wet is this dollar?" she asked.

Nick shrugged. "Yeah, that might be why Coach needed new shoes every month." Jess crinkled her nose. He looked at her for a second and smiled. "How about a kiss for good luck?" Nick leaned over to Jess. She brushed her hand across his cheek and pulled his lips to hers. "Go get 'em, tiger," she purred.

With an unbelievable goofy smile, Nick ran back to the game.

The game did last about 20 minutes more before Winston and Schmidt got into a very loud argument about whether they should be calling "double bounces," as Schmidt called it. "It's double dribbling, and we are so calling it," said Winston firmly.

"But it's just a friendly game. Why you gotta be like that, Winston?" Schmidt asked, and leaned in close. "Is this a bit of throwback from Latvia? You washed out, you gotta let it go." The argument spiraled quickly from there before Jess had to remind everyone there were "little pitchers" catching their every (not-so-pleasant) words.

"This is why I never bring my child with me to the playground," huffed Schmidt.

Nick sighed. "Yeah, Schmidt, because a PLAYGROUND is the worst place for a child." He turned toward Jess. "Wanna hit the diner before we head home?"

"Can we get donuts?" asked Walt.

"Sure, buddy," said Nick.

"Donuts!" yelled Walt and Coach in unison, before the giant man gave the little boy a gentle high-five.

"Ah, me and all my children," laughed Jess.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Boys," she sighed.

They all walked to the diner that was just down the street, which held the donuts beloved by all. Nick scooped up Walt and grabbed Sophie's hand. "You played great, daddy," said Sophie. "Barely any hard breathing at all this time."

"Thanks, sugar," he replied.

Coach fell in line beside Jess. "You know, I feel like I missed it all," he said quietly, watching Nick with the kids.

"Missed what?" Jess asked.

"Nick Miller falling hard," said Coach. "Though I should have guessed it would be that way when he saw you come out in that little, black number before you went on that date."

"The date where I got stood up, and you guys came and sang I've Had the Time of My Life to cheer me up?" Jess asked with a smile. That had to be one of the worst moments of her life that turned into one of her favorite memories.

Coach swiveled his head around quickly. "Shhhhhhh," he said, waving his hands. "I do not recall the events of that evening, and I would prefer if you forget them as well."

"Ah, Coach, I loved that evening. I just adored all of you from that moment on," she said simply.

Coach smiled. "Yeah, well, it's good to see Nicky so happy, and you happy, too."

"Thanks, Coach," said Jess.

Coach walked ahead and pulled Sophie into the air and onto his shoulders. She giggled in delight. "Shoulders, daddy!" yelled Walt, and Nick hoisted him up.

"You should be careful Nick, with your delicate condition," called Schmidt loudly, but then he turned around and winked at Jess. Winston slapped Schmidt on the back lightly and they laughed.

"Yep," whispered Jess, "there are all my guys."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Late Night Panics**

"Argh, MOVE, ya idiot!" Nick yelled at the car in front of them.

Jess sighed. "Just give it a minute, Nick, and we can go around him." She knew today would be tough. The Millers were heading up to Portland to help celebrate her father's birthday, and traffic on the way to the airport was heavy.

Looking over at Nick's white knuckles clenching the steering wheel, Jess thanked her lucky stars she had been able to talk Nick into the short flight, rather than the 14-hour drive. She knew Nick was none too anxious to hang out with her father. Even though the two had declared an uneasy truce years ago, she knew Bob still made her husband nervous.

"Mom!" Sophie called from the back seat. "Walt is throwing Cheerios at me!"

"That's 'cause you keep telling me I'm eating them wrong!" yelled Walt, letting another fiber-filled circle fly at his sister's head.

"That's it!" Nick hollered and glared into the rear view mirror at his children. "Sophie, quit being a know-it-all! Walt, quit flicking cereal at your sister's head, or I will TURN THIS CAR AROUND and you can explain to grandpa why you missed his birthday!"

Silence descended in the vehicle. Jess opened her mouth to try and soothe everyone's frayed nerves, but one look at Nick and she thought the better of it. She looked out the window, a slow smile creeping across her lips. Jess couldn't believe Nick ever had a worry of whether or not he would be a good father.

Jess had been about six months along with Sophie when she woke up in the middle of the night – immersed in a full-blown panic. Her appointment with Sadie had gone well, but Jess had made the mistake of dropping by a bookstore on her way home. There, she saw rows and rows of pregnancy and parenting books.

At first, she simply leafed through a few books, but as she was about to turn away, she was gripped by a sense of sheer and overwhelming panic. _How could all these people know about how to raise a child, and I feel like I have NO idea?_ she thought. Soon she was grabbing handful after handful of the books and jamming them into her little, plastic basket.

Later, in the living room of their little house, Jess sat surrounded by parenting books, pouring through sage advice until the words began to blur. _This is irrational_, she thought as she picked up a book titled Know Your Baby, Know Yourself. _At least I KNOW it is irrational_. She tossed the book to the side and flopped down in the mass of books, a whimper escaping her lips.

Her one consolation was that Nick was at the bar. _Poor Nick_, she thought. Ever since the owner had come to him and let him know he was going to sell the place, Nick had worked hard to find a way to buy it. With a less-than-stellar credit rating, he worked out a deal to pay the owner in increments as he took over management of the bar. That meant he was gone from about 11 a.m. to around 1 or 2 in the morning before he came home, exhausted. So she tried her best to keep her pregnancy-crazy to a minimum, but she knew it was like living with a woman suffering from 24-7 "menzies."

Stuffing the books into a closet, she finally pulled herself into bed. Now, hours later, she still suffered the after affects of panic. The bright light of the alarm clock told her it was around 1:30 in the morning. She rolled off the bed – a feat that was getting harder and harder to do – and shuffled softly toward the bathroom. Walking past the nursery, she noticed the glow of the small nightlight in the shape of a teddy bear.

Peeking her head in the door, she realized Nick was sitting in the gliding rocking chair, his head cradled in his hands.

"Nick?" she asked quietly. He jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Oh, hey, Jess," he said. In the shadow of the nursery, she could not be sure, but she thought she saw him wipe something away from his cheek. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No," she said carefully as she walked over to him. She ran her hand through his thick hair. "You all right?"

Nick tried to clear his throat, but the sound caught and came out a little strangled. He looked up at her, and Jess was amazed at the sheer panic in his face. "Jess, I am going to be a terrible father," he choked.

"What?" she cried, and dropped to her knees in front of him. "Nick Miller, you are going to be a wonderful father!"

Nick shook his head. "Jess, I have NO idea what to do. My dad… he was a really, really bad dad," he said with a halting laugh. "How am I going to know what to do? If there is a decision to make, chances are, I'm gonna make the wrong one."

Now Jess shook her head. "Nick, stop. Look at me." She lifted his head to see his chocolate-brown eyes wet with tears. "You are going to be a great father. Who took care of his family for all those years when your dad was gone? Who looked after me when I was out of job, and got me back on my feet again – albeit with some weird water aerobics." Nick laughed and wiped away a tear. Jess put her hand on his wet cheek. "Nick Miller, if there is one thing I know, it's that this baby is lucky to have you as a dad."

He looked at Jess, uncertainty written over his features. He sighed. "At least the baby has you. You know what you're doing," he said softly and offered her a shaky smile.

Jess rolled her eyes. "Help me up, Miller, and I'll show you something."

Nick looked down at her. "What are you doing on your knees, Jess?" he practically barked, and hauled her up as he stood. Before he could lecture her on being pregnant and kneeling, she took his hand and led him to their bedroom closet.

"I know what I'm doing?" she asked, opening the closet door. A flurry of parenting books tumbled past the door. Nick scrunched his eyebrows in confusion and leaned over to pick up a book. "The Baby in All of Us?" he read the title. "Jess, why do you think you need parenting books? You've been a teacher for years."

She sighed. "I thought I knew what my parents were doing right and wrong with my kids, but they were not MY kids." She motioned down to the mountain of books. "I really don't think anyone knows for sure what to do, but I just thought maybe someone had an answer of how not to screw up kids."

For a moment, Nick simply stared at the pile of books. "Jess, what if our kid turns out weird?" he asked quietly.

Jess turned to him. "Nick, this will be OUR child. Of COURSE she will be weird."

Nick laughed lightly and his hand moved to Jess' baby bump. "Ya hear that, Sophie? Your mom just called you weird."

Jess placed her hand over Nick's. "Nick, you loved your dad, right?" He nodded without looking up at her. "And you know he loved you." Nick's eyes met Jess' and he nodded again slowly. "Then that is half the battle. You love Sophie and she hasn't even been born yet. That seems like a pretty good start to me."

Without another word, Nick pulled his wife to him and kissed her. Just then, Sophie gave Jess an enormous kick. "Whoa!" gasped Nick. "I felt that!"

Jess smiled. "Yeah, she wants nachos, like NOW," she said.

Nick leaned back. "She is SO demanding!"

Jess nodded. "I KNOW. You should have heard her whining about how the seat belt was squishing her today," she said with a wink.

Nick pointed to Jess' belly. "None of that, young lady, you are wearing that seat belt."

Jess giggled. "Come on, daddy. I was not kidding about the nachos." She pulled him toward the kitchen.

Nick sighed. "Here we go," he said, and let her lead the way.

Now Jess sat in their car – the "family-mobile" Nick called it – and looked at her husband. She giggled. "Did you just threaten to 'turn this car around?'" Nick did not answer, but she caught a whisper of a smile tick across his lips. "Don't forget to ask them if their friends jumped off a bridge, would they?" she added and nudged him.

Nick gave her a sidelong glare, but he was already smiling. "I could tell them how I used to walk 10 miles to school, uphill…" Nick said.

"Both ways!" they finished the statement in unison. Jess laughed and Nick shook his head.

As if sensing the change in the mood of the car, Walt called from the backseat, "Daddy, play the howling song!"

Nick reached over and turned the knob for the iPod. The Black Keys came rolling out of the stereo. Jess bounced her head to the song as the kids shimmied in their booster seats.

"Ba dah ba dah ba. Ba dah ba dah dum," they all sang loudly over the chorus. Nick looked at Jess. "Well," he said in a low voice, "at least we gave them good taste in music."

Jess smiled. "We give them a lot more than that, Miller." She winked.

Nick smiled back and looked up at the road signs. "Here we go," he said, and signaled to take the exit to the airport.

**Thanks for the reviews! I love the ideas I'm getting from you guys. newgirlfan22 caught that I was trying to slip in a mention of Schmidt's child! I have an idea for another chapter with the kids together. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Hey Jude**

The room filled with light music as little girls in pink tights filtered up to a long, thin bar in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

Jess fluffed Sophie's layers of pink tutu and smiled. "You look lovely, Sophie."

Sophie spun around. "I TOLD you the extra fluffies were going to look pretty!" She skipped over to the bar with the other girls.

Jess turned to Nick, whose entire top lip had disappeared into his lower one in his attempt not to turtle face in front of Jess. Her eyebrows scrunched in concern. "Nick, are you SURE you don't mind watching the dress rehearsal? I have to be at school tonight for the open house, and I just want to make sure someone is here for Sophie."

Nick rolled his eyes. "It's FINE, Jess. This isn't weird at all," he motioned to the room full of moms fluttering around their girls. "We'll be fiiiine." Noting his voice notched up two octaves on the final "fine," Jess sighed.

"All right, just make sure Walt doesn't pour water on the floor again. Last time he tried to make a 'slip and slide' for the girls," she said, giving Walt her best, stern "mom look."

As she was turning to go, Jess saw Schmidt and Cece walk in the door. Schmidt was weighed down with a video camera, large stands and a giant light. Cece saw Jess and made her way over.

"Good heavens, what is all that?" Jess asked.

Cece hugged her. "THAT is my husband's idea of 'posterity.' He wants to create a video of his child's interpretive dance," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Oooookay, good luck," Jess said, adding a low voice. "Keep an eye on Nick, will you? I think he's in a pink and pretty nightmare right now." Cece nodded.

"I heard that!" Nick hollered as Jess waived goodbye. "I'm fiiiiine!"

Trailing slowly behind Cece was a tall, thin girl who wore the same bored expression as her mother. The 8-year-old rolled her eyes at her father, who was clamoring away with a light pole. "Mom," she whispered, "make him stop."

Cece patted her daughter's head. "If only I could, baby. If only I could."

Schmidt walked up in a huff. "Cece, the metrics of this room are horrible! How am I supposed to get her good side when they are trapping her in this fluorescent NIGHT-mare?"

Nick walked up and offered a fist bump to the girl. "Hey Jude," he said as she bumped his fist. "Don't make it bad."

Schmidt huffed. "Ha-ha-ha, that gets so much funnier every time you say it, Nicholas. You know her name is _Judith_. That's Ju-dith, Nick. Judith Sita Schmidt. She was named after the great author Judith S. Antonelli, who wrote _Images of God: A Feminist Commentary on the Torah_…."

"And after your great aunt," sighed Cece. She looked at Nick. "I like Jude," she said, earning a fist bump from Nick.

"Me too," said Jude, before she wrinkled her nose. "It's better than when Aunt Jess calls me 'Judy, Judy, Judy," she said, throwing out her arms in her impression of Jess' 1940s voice.

Nick laughed. "Gotta agree with you there, Jude," he said with a wink. He looked up at the bar. "I think Sophie is waiting for you," he said.

Cece looked up. "Did her tutu get bigger since the last time?"

Nick sighed and looked at the pink confection that was his daughter. "She kept asking Jess to add layers, and she could not say no."

"Well, we see that she gets her penchant for ribbons and fluff from Jessica," said Schmidt, trying – and failing – to hide the disgust from his voice.

Walt tugged on his dad's pant leg. Nick leaned over. "What's up, little man?" The boy pointed to Jude. "I'm gonna marry her, daddy," he said. Nick looked over at the olive-skinned beauty who moved with grace as she twirled with his daughter. He looked at Walt. "Aim high, little man. Aim high," he said, and ruffled his raven hair. "Come on, let's grab a seat."

Nick, Cece and Walt walked over the curved, plastic chairs and sat down as Schmidt returned to assemble the lighting system that looked like it came from a movie set. Nick nodded his head toward Schmidt. "You think he needs help with that?"

Cece rolled her eyes. "I let him know he was on his own after he told me to hold steady a light _at Jude's birth_," she said, "He was rather ticked that I was _slightly_ busy at the time," she added with a slight smile. Nick had no idea how, but Cece and Schmidt made perfect sense. The unlikely couple had weathered one hardship after another, and still managed stay together.

Looking down at her phone, Cece sighed. "Excuse me," she said and snapped the phone to her ear. "No! I said $10,000. That's right, Marco, ten-thou-sand." Nick and Walt sunk a bit into their chairs as Cece stepped out of the room.

Walt leaned over to his dad. "Aunt Cece is a little scary, daddy." Nick nodded. These days Cece managed a slew of young models with her business partner, Nadia. And as scary as Cece was, agents knew they wanted to deal with her rather than the "Rabid Russian."

The door to the studio swung open, and Nick expected to see Cece return, but instead Winston and Coach sauntered into the room. Nick threw up his hands as his friends approached. "Why are you guys here? The recital isn't until this weekend."

Winston and Coach looked at the floor. "Well, uh, we wanted to be here, you know, for support," said Winston.

"Lots of support," added Coach.

Just then the girls' teacher, Miss Burkin, walked up to the bar and spoke with Jude. Nick noticed how Coach and Winston sat up straight in their chairs and smiled at the woman. "Oh no. NO," he hissed at them. "You are NOT hitting on my daughter's dance teacher!"

They both threw Nick a look of mock horror. "I have NO idea what you are talking about, Nick Miller," said Coach. Just then, a crash resounded across the room as one of Schmidt's more complex lighting poles toppled to the ground. "I better go help him over there, closer to Miss Burkin," he said with a lopsided smile. Winston scowled.

Nick rolled his eyes. He looked back to Sophie, and noticed she was frowning. Another girl was pulling on her enormous tutu. "Oh boy," Nick growled. He had been afraid of this when Sophie had bounded out Jess' sewing room, looking like a cupcake gone wrong.

"What's going on?" asked Winston, seeing the girl tug on Sophie's tutu and laugh. "Hey," he hissed. "Is she messing with Sophie?" He began to stand. "I'll put a stop to this."

Nick grabbed his arm. "Wait a minute," he said, looking across the room. Jude stepped away from her teacher, and her eyes narrowed. She moved with a purpose to Sophie and her tormentor. "Hey," she said loudly. "You got a problem? Cause if you keep talking to my best friend like that you are GOING to have a problem." Jude was nearly a head taller than the bully, who backed down quickly and slinked to another spot on the bar.

"Thanks, Jude," Sophie whispered. "I guess I have too much fluff, don't I?"

Nick's heart broke a little as he watched Sophie's face stare down at the ground. _God,_ he thought, _how in the hell am I going to stop the world from hurting my kids?_

Jude slid an arm around Sophie. "Yeah, but it's also very Sophie. And I love Sophie," she said.

Sophie looked up and smiled.

"Come on," Jude said. "Let's go show that girl how we can plié the crap out of this place."

Nick slid back into his chair and laughed softly. _It was going to be all right_. Cece sat down next to him, and Nick offered her a genuine smile. He thought of how the same scene must have played out 20 years ago with scary Cece as Jess' defender. She smiled back.

"Where's Walt?" she asked.

Nick's head spun around to see the empty seat next to him. _Oh crap!_

He desperately scanned the room for his son. His stomach clenched when he saw a small figure near Coach and Schmidt. Walt had just finished emptying the contents of his juice box on the ground. Nick jumped up, but Schmidt was already taking a step back into the cranberry-apple puddle.

The crash of several thousand dollars worth of lighting equipment shook the studio. Walt turned to Nick with the corners of his mouth turned down. "Slip and slide?" he asked slowly.

"Huh," said Nick. "So that's what a turtle face looks like."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Best. Day. Ever.**

Nick leaned against the rich, deep wood of the deck. A beer grasped in one hand, he twirled a spatula in the other. "Hey Schmidt," he called. "How long does your fake meat substance need to cook?"

Looking across Schmidt and Cece's vast backyard, Nick noticed his friend's face contort with what he guessed was some kind of sharp response, but the sounds of the kids splashing in the pool drown his retort.

"What?" Nick yelled. "Ah, forget it, I'll just cook them until they go from beige to some other color," he huffed, and flipped a patty. Nick, Jess, Winston and Coach usually brought their own food to the cookouts, but this time Schmidt resisted having "death meat" cooked on his enormous grill.

"How goes the battle, Miller?" Jess curled her arms around her husband's waist. "Did caveman kill dinner and put over fire?" she added with a grunt. Nick smiled. "I think caveman would have been extinct if he had to eat this stuff." She glanced at the grill and wrinkled her noise. "Tofu is just not a pretty sight, is it?"

Another splash from the pool crested water near Nick and Jess. "Hey," he hollered. "Watch the splashing there, guys. You might want to keep some of the water IN the pool."

Jess smiled and nuzzled Nick's back. "Me think caveman need food. Caveman getting grouchy." She placed a quick kiss on his back. "I'll get you some chips while you finish with the, um, burgers." As Jess walked back toward the cooler, Nick noticed she stopped to talk to Walt. Standing by the edge of the shallow end, Walt looked warily at the water as he tugged on the strings of his swimsuit. She pointed to the girls splashing and playing with Coach and his 6-year-old son, Jordan, but Walt merely shook his head vehemently.

Nick sighed. It looked as though he had gifted his son yet another one of his odd phobias – the fear of getting his head wet. Jordan and Coach had tried to coax him into the water. Well, Jordan had tried to coax, Coach mostly yelled at him to stop being a "sissy boy," earning a strict lecture from Jess. Nick laughed softly. It always cracked him up to watch giant Coach cower to the diminutive Jess when she went on a tirade. Coach apologized to Walt, and offered to have him just ride on his shoulders, but Walt planted his feet on the side of the pool and stayed there.

"How are the tofu delights coming, my good man?" Schmidt asked. Nick jumped, not even realizing his friend had sauntered over. Schmidt took a large slurp from a straw in a cup that had not one, but three different skewers of fruit in it.

"That drink is definitely a jar moment," Nick said. He paused. "Does Cece still enforce the jar?"

Schmidt shrugged. "How do you think we paid for the pool?" He looked down at the grill. "Those look positively delectable, Nicholas. Why don't you flip them onto some steaming croissants?"

Nick looked to the side of the grill. "You don't even have buns?"

Schmidt scowled. "Why would I waste some of the finest tofu confections on some bleached-out sugar-filled rolls of death, _Nick_?"

Rolling his eyes, Nick waved at Schmidt. "Whatever. Just give me a pla…."

His words were cut off by a very Walt-sounding whoop. Nick turned to see a splash of water, as his son fell into the pool. Dropping the spatula, Nick ran to the pool and jumped in, racing over to Walt. Just as he was about to yank his son from the water, Walt popped up and yelled, "Ta da! I did it!" Nick looked down to see he was standing in water that was only about two feet deep. He also noticed at that moment that he was fully clothed.

Jude brushed past Nick and picked up Walt. "I TOLD you that you could do it! How could you even doubt me for a moment, Walt Miller?" Jude carried Walt to a clapping Sophie and a waiting Coach, who pulled the boy up to his shoulders. "You are the MAN, Walt! Who is the man?"

"I am!" yelled Walt. "Did you see me daddy?"

Nick blew away some of the water dripping into his face. "Yeah, buddy! I sure did. You were greaaaaaat." He tried to focus on his son's beaming smile, and not the feel of the pool water squishing into his tennis shoes. He felt a gentle hand on his arm. Nick closed his eyes tight before turning to Jess. He slowly opened one eye, knowing she would have that look on her face, the one where she was biting back a smile.

"That was pretty heroic there, Miller," she said, though Nick could see the laughter dancing in her blue eyes.

"Yeah, I'm a real hero," Nick said, shaking water off his soaked shirt. Jess pushed his hair, beaded with water, from his face. "You know what this reminds me of?"

Nick looked at her. "The day you fell into Russell's coy pond?"

Jess shook her head. "Nope. It reminds me of the Best Day Ever." She brushed Nick's lips with a soft kiss and turned to wade out of the pool. A silly grin broke over Nick's features.

The best day ever for Nick and Jess certainly did not start out that way. By mid-afternoon, Jess was in a harried panic. Her dress, the one she had searched to find in every odd, little shop in LA, now had a huge tear in the side. It was actually the second tear of the day. The first came when Cece had closed the door on one of the flowing, silk ribbons that cascaded down the side. That tear Jess and her mother dashed to fix by ripping a piece of material from Joan's dress. The second tear came when Nick had tumbled out from the balcony.

When Nick started the day, he had no intention of jumping from a balcony to get to Jess. He actually felt calm, until he could not find his cufflinks. Winston, who was probably the most panicked Nick had ever seen him, pulled the room apart looking for the silver buttons. "I KNOW they are here somewhere!" Winston yelled. He grabbed Nick by the arms and squeezed with all his might. "We will FIND them, Nick. I swear it!" And with that, Winston had dashed out of the room, leaving Nick rubbing his squished arms.

The door opened a minute later, and Nick turned, expecting to see Winston or Schmidt. But his stomach dropped as Bob Day stood in front of him. "Soooooo, Rick. Big day, huh?" Nick gulped.

The night before, Nick had finally stood up to Bob, telling him once and for all that he was marrying Jess. He told him he respected him, but he was not going to let Bob Day get into his head. Bob stood calmly during Nick's declarations. Instead of screaming as Nick expected, Bob simply looked at him. "We'll see," he said quietly, and left. Nick wished he would have yelled, screamed, taken a swing at him – anything but that quiet voice that left Nick with a growing dread.

Bob walked slowly over to Nick's tuxedo jacket hanging on the back of a chair. He brushed an invisible speck of dust from the shoulder. "This is a big day for Jess as well. It means a lot to her." Nick plastered a smile on his face that he knew was just toooooo big. Bob moved slowly to Nick and placed his hands on his shoulders. "You really think you are ready for this?" Nick willed his head to nod yes. Bob sighed.

"I sure hope so, Rick. I hope you are ready to be there for her, when she is sick, when she is sad, when she needs you. It is a huge responsibility to take on someone else's life in your hands," Bob said carefully. "I know you've tried to do right by her. You're buying that bar where you've worked for years and years as a bartender, right?" This time, Nick could not even get himself to nod. He had to remind himself to blink.

Bob continued. "Yeah, lot of new businesses fail, you know. And that would mean she'll need to support you. And hey, maybe you'll have kids by then. You want lots of kids, right Rick?" A sudden urge to panic moonwalk gripped Nick. "Yeah, Jess looooooves kids," said Bob. "I'll bet she'll want to start on the honeymoon."

An icy fear pierced Nick's stomach. "I know what you are trying to do, Bob, and it won't work," Nick managed to choke out the words, hoping they sounded steadier than his frayed nerves.

"I'm just trying to help, Rick," Bob said. "In fact, I think my father-in-law gave me a very similar speech the day I married Joan. Of course, I didn't listen, and we all know how that turned out." He suddenly slapped Nick on the arm. "Well, see you out there," he said lightly. And with that, he left the room. Nick squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of the door closing.

_I am NOT going to let Bob get to me. Jess and I were meant to be together,_ Nick thought. He edged toward the door. Opening it slowly, Nick wanted to make sure Bob was gone. Peeking down the hall, he saw Schmidt calling a hotel employee a "heathen," and arguing that the centerpiece flowers were definitely NOT a delicate shade of pink, but were – in fact – a horrid, pale puce. Nick eased the door closed just as Winston raced by screaming, "We will FIND them!"

Nick's breath came in shallow gulps. He was NOT going to panic today. He was NOT going to do it. Of course, the one person who could talk him down from an attack was just now slipping into a white, ribbon-infested dress. Knowing he could not see Jess, the panic hit him full force. Outside that door, there were too many flowers, faces of family members ready to stare at him, screaming friends and expectations – a whole lot of responsibility and expectations. Even as he willed his feet not to do it, Nick moved toward the tiny balcony. _Fresh air, _he thought. _I just need fresh air_. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped out.

Taking a deep breath, the fresh air did start to calm him down. Then, from the room two balconies from his, he heard it. "Noooooooo!" someone cried. Someone who sounded a heck of a lot like Jess. Nick grabbed the balcony railing. Jess could be in trouble. Or worse, Bob may have gotten to her, too!

Without thinking, Nick jumped up on the railing. He gauged how hard of a jump it would take to make it to the next, narrow, little balcony, and launched himself at it. He slammed into the railing with his stomach.

"Ooooooof! Arrgh," Nick coughed and held on tight to the thin metal. Somehow, he managed to flip himself clumsily over the railing. Just as he was about to climb up the next rail, he heard a sharp screech.

Sadly, the balcony where Nick landed already had the glass door open, and a woman tossed the entire contents of a melted ice bucket at Nick before shoving the glass door closed. Nick, sputtering as the deluge of water fell on him, tripped and managed to get his foot nearly caught in the door. He sighed with relief that his foot had not been flattened, but as he moved to make his way to the next railing, he realized his shoelace was caught in the glass door. At first, he thought about tapping on the glass and asking her to open the door, but quickly thought the better of it. He worked a few minutes to try and free the lace, but finally gave up and just ditched his shoe.

Shimmying up to the next railing, Nick jumped even harder. This time he cleared the railing, but landed with such a thud that he knocked the wind from his lungs. Staggering, he fell into Jess' room.

"There," said Joan sweetly. "See? Just a quick stitch or two and OH MY GOODNESS!" she yelped as Nick lurched from the balcony. Reaching out to stop his fall, Nick grabbed into what looked like a light, pink rope. But the rope did not hold, and a horrible ripping sound followed his tumble.

"Nick! What are doing here?" gasped Jess. "Don't look at me! It's bad luck!" she cried. Nick slapped his hand over his eyes.

"I think we are too late for that, Jess," he said quietly as Jess scampered behind a dressing screen near Nick.

"Nick, get out!" Cece yelled. "Oh God, Jess, your dress."

"No," Nick muttered. "No, no, no. Tell me I did not ruin your dress."

He heard Jess sigh. "It was already ruined, Nick. This was a patch job, at best." She slid to the ground. "You can open your eyes, Nick. I'm out of view."

Nick slowly opened his eyes, then immediately wanted to shut them again as he caught a glare from Cece and a shocked look from Joan. He cleared his throat. "I heard you yelling, and I thought you were in trouble," he said meekly.

"You jumped across the balcony?" Jess asked, her hand peeking out from the side of the screen.

Looking down at the ribbon in his hand, Nick suddenly felt the weight of his stupidity crash into him. "Ugh, I am an _idiot_."

Joan smiled at him. "I think it's romantic," she said, then frowned. "Are you all right, Nick?"

Cece rolled her eyes. "He's right. He's an idiot. Why didn't you use the door?"

"Well, I had a few words with Bob," he began. A flash of anger crackled in Joan's gaze. "You did, did you? I imagine he and I will have to have a few words as well," she said firmly.

"Not now, mom," Jess's voice sounded small from behind the screen. "Nick," she asked quietly, "are you having second thoughts?"

"NO!" Nick yelled. He scooted across the floor, and placed his hand over Jess'. "God no, Jess." He sighed. "I guess I just let Bob freak me out, and I needed to talk to my best friend. But she was two whole balconies away from me."

"TWO balconies! Nick Miller, are you crazy?" Jess yelled.

Nick smiled. Just hearing her voice made the icy spear of panic fade into the background. _It's going to be all right, _he thought. "Certifiable," he answered Jess, and squeezed her hand. "You still want to marry me?"

He waited for a beat, and felt his heart clench when she did not answer right away. "Close your eyes, Nick," Jess said softly. Nick did as instructed, and suddenly felt her soft lips press to his. "Nick, I don't know what happened, or what will happen. I just know I want to be with you for the rest of my life." She brushed her lips against his once more. "You okay, Nick?" she whispered.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nick reached up and caught her face gently in his hands. "Are you kidding? This is going to be the best day ever." He pulled her to another kiss and felt her smile against his lips.

"Nick, why are you all wet?" she asked.

Now he watched Jess turn to walk out of Schmidt's oversized pool, and he could not help but grab her arm and pull her back to him. "Best. Day. Ever," he whispered. Placing one hand on her cheek, Nick drew Jess into a kiss.

"Well, thank YOU for that ridiculous show of testosterone, Nick, but now lunch is ruined!" shouted Schmidt.

A loud round of cheers came from Coach and the kids. "Cool, let's get some real food," Coach shouted and strode past Nick and Jess, still carrying Walt on his shoulder.

Jess giggled. "Was that really the best day for you, Mr. Miller?" she asked with a teasing tone in her voice.

"That, and every day after, Mrs. Miller," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Hi Partner!**

Walt flopped over, his arm falling smack into Nick's face. Frowning, Nick gently moved his son's little arm back down to his side. He turned to see Sophie's feet sticking out of the covers and pushing into Jess' cheek. As if sensing he was looking at her, Jess opened her eyes and offered a sympathetic smile.

"You know," Nick whispered. "When you said we should spend more time together as a family, this is not exactly what I had in mind." Jess bit her lip, trying not to giggle.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I forgot how creepy it is when the evil queen in Sleeping Beauty turns into a dragon." Jess eased Sophie's foot from her face. Lifting the covers, she peered down at her daughter. "How does she sleep like that?" she asked.

Nick shrugged. "She's a Miller. I'm pretty sure I slept inside a Dumpster once."

Jess shuddered. "Remind me NOT to ask you about that story."

Nick grinned. "I don't remember much about it, anyway. It was one of my last adventures with the great mistress known as tequila."

In his sleep, Walt mumbled something about fire and "yucky" kisses. He whimpered and snuggled closer to Nick's side. "Shhhh, little man," whispered Nick, gently patting his son's head. "It's all right." He looked back at Jess, who gazed at him with an odd expression. "What?" he asked.

"You," she said, slipping her arm around the tangle of children's arms and legs. She carefully edged closer and ran her fingers through Nick's thick hair. "Look at you, being all daddish. It's adorable."

Nick gave her his best turtle face. "Whatever," he said. "Remind me to pitch that DVD in the morning." She noticed his attempts at a surly tone were already fading as he leaned his head closer to her hand. She continued to slowly brush his hair with her fingers. When he opened his chocolate-brown eyes, his expression was soft. "You know … OOOOF!" Nick yelped as Walt gave him a swift kick in the stomach.

Jess winced and shook her head. "He always was a good kicker."

Biting back a curse, Nick rolled Walt away, hoping it was out of kicking distance. "Hey," he said, rubbing his wounded stomach. "I thought you promised our kids would 'never come between us.'"

Smiling at the memory, Jess said, "Oh no, that was only when we were having one. With two, all bets are off."

Nick rolled his eyes. "NOW you tell me."

Jess laughed out loud, and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes shooting to Sophie. Thankfully, neither child moved. She remembered well when she uttered that phrase to Nick.

It was almost eight years ago when Jess looked down at the slender stick in her hand, watching in slight horror as the two pink lines appeared. "Ruh Roh," she whispered.

Nick and Jess had only been married about a year and a half at the time. Things at the bar seemed to be going well, and her principal loved how she was working wonders with her newest round of so-called "problem" kids. Now everything was going to be turned upside down. Jess gulped. She loved Nick Miller with all her heart, but change was not something handled well.

Jess stuffed the test into the garbage in the bathroom. She shoved it down to the bottom of the silver container. _He could still see it_, she thought, before unrolling a large wad of toilet paper and jamming it into the garbage can. Her eyes darted to the cabinet. She grabbed the bag of cotton balls and tried to shake some over the toilet paper. "Why. Won't. You. Come. Out?" she snapped at the fluffs of white, before ripping the bag open, sending cotton everywhere. She scooped them up from the floor and dropped them into the can. Looking at the pile, she snatched the jumbo-sized box of Q-tips and dumped them all in for good measure, before she dashed from the bathroom.

She flopped onto the couch in their small living room. _What am I going to say to Nick?_ she thought. She could only image the amount of panic moon walking this would incite. Jess picked up a pen and paper from the table and started to scribble. _Good reasons for having a baby_, she wrote. _1. Someone we can love. 2. Someone who will have your incredible brown eyes and my sense of style. _

Jess stopped and sighed. These were great Jess-arguments, but maybe not so great for Nick. She tried to put herself in Nick's mindset, even pulling down the corners of her mouth into a turtle face. "I'm Nick Miller, and the world is dark and grey," she said. Then she looked at the pad of paper. _3. Great tax write-off_, she wrote. Jess smiled. She could DO this.

An hour later, Jess groaned. "I cannot DO this," she said. The room was covered in crumbled pieces of paper. Jess had somehow managed to pull her hair back and into a wayward bun with several pencils sticking out. She had hoped each one would give her the magic answer as to why Nick should be ecstatic about having a baby. _A baby we did not plan, and probably cannot afford, and have no idea how to raise_, she thought, and face planted into the couch.

Hearing the key in the lock, Jess jumped up. As fast as she could, she scrambled to scoop up the papers. Hearing her husband come through the door, she quickly shoved them all under the couch, as the clink of glasses signaled the opening the refrigerator.

"Hi babe," Nick said wearily as he walked into the living room, twisting the cap off a bottle of beer. He gave her a quick kiss before he launched himself into a chair. Jess tried to respond, but her voice stuck in her throat. _Does he have to look all scruffy and sexy?_ she thought as she looked down at him. With his sleeves rolled up and his tie askew, he looked so much like the night of their first date-that wasn't, and the night of Cece's wedding when he came racing after her and they "uncalled it."

"Good news," he said, and Jess caught his signature hint of sarcasm. "We might actually make a profit this month. That's right, I think we might make about $100, meaning I can take you for dinner, or we can actually get a bigger pot for the drip in the roof." He pointed two fingers at her and winked.

Jess smiled. She knew he was kidding, but the fact that the bar was actually turning a profit was big news. Nick had always managed to make all the payments and meet payroll, including his own check, but that usually left the bar just breaking even. This was a big deal, no matter how much he downplayed it. She leaned next to him. "That's my sexy mogul," she said, and leaned to kiss him, but ended up jabbing him with one of the pencils stuck in her hair.

"Ow!" Nick yelped. "Hey, is that a new hairdo? I'm guessing they call it 'frazzled teacher?'"

Jess shot up as if he'd shocked her. She stared at Nick for a moment, trying to remember all the things she was planning to say. _This won't be terrible. We'll be partners in this. It will be a great adventure. We'll do to it together. _Instead, all that came out of her mouth was, "Hi partner!"

Nick laughed. "Ooooookay." He eased up from the chair. "I'm going to grab a shower."

Jess tried again to speak, but this time only a squeak escaped her lips. Nick stared at her. "Jess, are you okay? You're being weird. And I am saying that as a man who had an actual conversation with a guy who told me he was a reincarnation of Eli Whitney. Did you know he invented gin?"

"The cotton gin," Jess mumbled.

"Yeah, okay. You all right?"

Jess stared at him, but could only numbly nod her head. Nick gave her a curious look, but simply planted another brief kiss on her lips before heading into the bathroom. She slid down onto the couch. _You big chicken_, Jess admonished herself. "Bwauk, bwauk, bewauk," she clucked, flapping her arms in her best chicken-mode.

"Hey Jess," called Nick. "What happened to all the Q-tips?"

"Uh, art project?" she yelled back quickly.

Nick did not respond, but she heard him turn on the water for the shower.

Jess shook her head. "You can DO this, Jessica," she hissed to herself. "You are a strong woman. Get yourself in there NOW." She paused. "Ugh, I AM a know-it-all."

Pulling herself up, Jess marched into the bathroom. "Nick?" she spoke loudly to be heard over the shower.

"What, babe?" he said.

Jess took a breath. _Here goes, _she thought. "There is something wrong. Well, not wrong, exactly, but not what you might expect." She bit her lip. "Nick, there comes a time when all the things you thought were scary seem silly and small, and that's what happened to me today. I realized that you and I is not just you and I but something more than you and I. And I liked that, and I want this and I want you to want this, and he or she will never come between us. It will just be more us, you know?"

She paused for a minute, unsure any of that made sense. "Uh Jess, you lost me around 'something wrong,'" Nick said from the spray of the shower.

Jess sighed. "Nick, I'm pregnant."

Shutting her eyes tight, she held her breath as all movement in the shower froze. Only the soft hiss of the water made any sound in the echoes of the bathroom. Eventually, the water shut off. Nick leaned out of the curtain. "You're what?" he asked simply.

"I'm pregnant."

Nick's face went a little pale, and Jess wondered if he might faint. She wanted to take a step closer, but remained still as several expressions of panic contorted Nick's features, reminding her of the night of the game of True America when he kissed her for the first time. _Well_, she thought,_ at least there are no ledges in the bathroom._

When he spoke, his voice came out as a squeak. "When did this…did we…not safe?"

Jess stared at him for a second before she understood. "Oh, I think it was that night…the twirliness…the car," she looked down as her face flushed crimson. Nick's questioning gaze turned into a goofy grin. "Oh yeah," he said with a laugh. He looked at Jess, as if for the first time.

Without another word, he stepped out of the shower and walked to her. She knew the uncertainty shown in her eyes, but she could not hide her fear from him. "I'm scared, too, Nick," she whispered. "But this baby will be us – you and I."

Nick reached for Jess, but suddenly realized he was dripping wet and rather naked. "Oh geesh," he said, and pulled the large, red towel from the rack next to the shower. He pulled it around his waist and looked at her again. This time, he placed a hand gently on her cheek. "A baby, huh?"

Jess nodded and bit her lip. He pulled her close and pressed his lips softly to hers. She clung to him, feeling the wetness against her cheeks and unsure if it was his damp skin or her own tears.

Nick leaned back and rested his hand on her stomach. "Hi partner," he said. Jess laughed. Nick looked back at her and she gasped at the flood of emotions racing his eyes – pride, possessiveness, and panic all mingled with an awe that shook her to the core. "Okay, let's do this," he said, and she knew he was all in.

Now, years later, Jess smiled at her husband across the bed. "Hi partner," she whispered. Nick smiled back, pulling the memory she offered. "Hi," he said.

Nick glanced at the kids. "You know, I think the car is a bit roomier than this," he said in a low voice.

Jess laughed softly. "You trying to go for three?"

Nick winked and raised his eyebrows. Jess giggled as they untangled themselves from the children and began to sneak out of the room.

"Mom?" Sophie called. Jess and Nick stopped, their shoulders slumped in unison.

"I'm here, sweetie," Jess said, turning back to the bed.

Nick rubbed his face in his hands. "Yeah, that DVD is toast," he mumbled, and followed his wife back to bed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Cupcakes and hair pulls**

**_Thanks to Sarah for her suggestion for this chapter. I so love your getting everyone's reviews! And in answer to NewGirl78: Yup!_**

Getting ready to head to the bar on a bright Saturday afternoon, Nick straightened his tie as he strolled into the kitchen. "Hey, it's the baking crew! What's on the menu for today?"

Jess stirred a large bowl of something chocolatey-looking, while Sophie stood poised to add chocolate chips to the bowl. Among the scattered remains of egg shells, butter wrappers and fluffs of flour sat Walt, perched on the counter, happily licking a spoon of batter that seemed to be landing on his face more than in his mouth.

"It's chocolate-chocolate chip cupcakes, daddy," chirped Sophie. In her excitement, she shook the bag of chips a bit too hard, pouring nearly all the contents into the bowl. "Oh dear!" she yelped.

Jess patted her shoulder. "Sophie, that was the EXACT amount I wanted! How did you know?" Sophie smiled as Jess heaved the spoon to make its way around the mass of chips. "We're making cupcakes," Jess sang.

"And they are yummy," Sophie's little voice joined Jess' as they continued with their song.

Nick chuckled and leaned over to Walt. "And what are you doing?"

"I'm the taster!" announced Walt. "Wanna try, daddy?" He shoved the spoon at Nick, whapping his father on the nose.

"Thanks, little man," coughed Nick, squinting the blob of batter from his eyes.

Jess quickly scooped up a towel and dabbed Nick's face. "Poor daddy," she said, biting back a laugh. Brushing a splatter from his cheek, Jess looked at Nick and smiled. "There," she said softly.

Nick stared at his wife. There she was, with flour in her hair, and a ridiculously colorful apron wrapped around her waist, and she could not have looked more adorable. He pushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her and gave her a gentle kiss. "What was that for?" she asked lightly, her blue eyes sparkling.

"Ya know, chocolate is my catnip," he said with a wink, sweeping his thumb over a small dab of batter on her chin.

"Hmmmmm, I thought it was pink robes," she giggled.

A smile hitched on Nick's lips. He had the urge to add something slightly inappropriate for the family setting, when Sophie asked, "Momma, can we make the strawberry frosting with the cupcakes?"

"No!" shouted Nick and Jess in unison at a startled Sophie. She jumped, and Jess hurried to warp an arm around her daughter. "Sorry, sweetie. For mommy and daddy, that combination is a little…um…."

"Pain inducing," finished Nick.

Sophie's features scrunched in question. "Why would strawberries and chocolate be bad, mommy?"

Jess sighed. "It's just reminds mommy of a tough time…that ended up perfect," she said.

_That's putting it mildly_, Nick thought. It had been his brilliant idea to bring his very pregnant wife strawberries dipped in chocolate that day. She was still about two weeks from her due date, and feeling – as she put it – as if a whale had consumed a cow and they both sat on her. It was already a warm May morning when he slipped back into the house with the box of strawberries from the ridiculously overpriced chocolate shop.

"Jess?" he called quietly, in case she had finally fallen back to sleep. She woke up the night before with a rough set of false labor pains that sent Nick crashing to the floor and scrambling for the overnight bag. The pains subsided, but she had a hard time getting back to sleep.

Walking into the living room, Nick saw Jess curled up on the sofa, her face pinched in discomfort. His face fell in concern. "Are they back?"

Jess nodded. "I'm thinking of giving Braxton and Hicks a good talking to," she said in a strained voice. Finally, the sensation passed and she took a deep breath.

Nick placed his hand on hers and brought out the box. "I got you a little something."

Jess gave him a weary smile. "Is it a time machine and a surrogate mom?" she laughed. Opening the box, her eyes lit up. "Ooooooh! Chocolate-covered strawberries. Nick, I love those!" She pulled a large strawberry from the box and took a bite. "Mmmmmm, momma like," she sighed. Nick saw her shoulders relax a bit.

A second later, Jess dropped the unfinished strawberry, her eyes widening. "Uh, Nick," she said quietly. "I think my water just broke."

Nick bit the inside of his cheek, doing everything he could NOT to scream at the traffic that was at a standstill. They had been in the car on the way to the hospital for what felt like an eternity. Jess had been through several rather strong contractions, and her agitation at the non-moving cars was growing.

"Nick," she said, and he could tell she was trying to keep the whimper from her voice. _My brave girl_, he thought. _And this damn traffic!_ "How much longer do you think it will be?" Her face contorted with another contraction, and this time she bypassed his outstretched hand and went straight for his hair, yanking hard. "What in the hell was in those strawberries, Miller?!" she screamed.

"Yowza!" Nick yelped as she pulled his head forward by the hair. "It will be all right, Jess. I will fix this. I will fix it." She finally released his head and he pulled out his phone to call Sadie.

"Saaaaadie," he called in a forced tone of nonchalance. He eased out of the car and holding up a finger to Jess to let her know he would be right there. Standing by the car he hissed, "Sadie, we are trapped in traffic. I think there was an accident up ahead. We are stuck. What do I do?"

"Okay, Nick, you need to stay calm," Sadie's voice came through the phone with a tone of authority. Nick hated that voice. It was the voice she used years ago when she told him he had to go and get a scan. It meant something was wrong. "How far apart are the contractions?"

Nick took a breath and looked at his watch. "I think they are about seven minutes apart," he said.

"That's good," said Sadie, "You have time. Now…"

"Nick!" Jess called from the car. Nick glanced at his watch again. "Okay, maybe closer to five or six minutes apart," he said.

Sadie was silent for a moment, and Nick's stomach dropped. "Sadie, do I have to deliver this baby? Because I think I can. I have my tool box in the trunk."

"I doubt any of those tools will be useful OR sanitary, Nick," she said in a low voice.

"Right, no screwdrivers, but may be the wrench?" Nick said, feeling his panic rising. He glanced up at the traffic, and thought he made out the top of an ambulance. "Ambulance!" he yelled.

"I'll call for one right away," said Sadie in her calm and eerie voice. "Where are you?"

"No, I mean there is one just up the road at the accident, I think we can make it," he said.

"Call me as soon as you are in transport," she said.

_Transport?_ thought Nick. _I'm not beaming my baby aboard a ship_. He ended the call and eased back in the car next to Jess, who was holding tightly to the seat. "Okay, Jess," he said gently. "Once this one passes, we need to try and do a little walking. Think you can do that?"

"Oh God," moaned Jess. "You have Sadie's creepy something-is-wrong voice. Is something wrong?"

"Nooooooo," Nick squeaked, and slammed his back against the seat before Jess could see he was lie-sweating. "We just need to make our way up to a ride that is waiting for us, okay?"

Jess looked at Nick, and slowly nodded. She took a deep breath as the contraction passed. "Okay, I think I can walk now," she said.

They made their way slowly past a couple of cars, when another contraction began. Nick grabbed onto Jess and bumped into a motorcycle parked on the street. "Hey!" a giant man lumbered over to Nick and shoved him against a car. "What in the hell do you think you are doing to my bike?"

_Not today_, thought Nick. He spun on the towering man with a shaved head and a giant tattoo of a snake spiraling up his neck. "Look, you can kill me tomorrow if you like. I'm sorry about your bike, but my wife is in LABOR right now and we have to try and get to that ambulance," he pointed ahead. "So, please, kill me tomorrow, but get OUT of the way now. Okay?"

The scowl across the man's face faded as he glanced back at Jess, who was quietly puffing out her cheeks in a practiced breathing move. "Oh man, I'm sorry," the man said quickly. "How far apart is she?"

Nick blanched. "About five minutes."

The man made his way over to Jess and leaned down. "Has your water broken?" She nodded erratically, and the man stood up. "Guys! Clear a path! We got a woman in labor!"

Nick turned to see a collection of hairy, leather-clad bikers turn his direction. As if by magic, they moved out of the way and a straight shot to the ambulance could be seen. "Tell them to hold that ambulance if they can," Nick called, and one of the big men jogged toward the flashing lights.

The man turned to Jess and held out an arm. "Don't worry, I have four kids. You're doing just fine. I'm Zeke, by the way."

Jess smiled weakly. "I'm Jess, and this is my husband, Nick."

"Nice to meet ya," Nick said, easing Jess away from the car. Zeke took the other arm and they walked slowly to the ambulance.

"She's five minutes apart and her water is broken, and I think by her movement that is she is about five centimeters dilated," Zeke announced to the paramedic helping Jess in the ambulance.

"Are you the father?" she asked Zeke.

"No, no, that would be me," Nick said, sliding next to a kid with a patched cut on his head in the ambulance. "Do you mind if we go to County? That's where her doctor is."

"Fine by me," the kid said sadly. "The longer it takes my dad to get to me after I totaled his car, the better."

The doors of the ambulance slammed shut, and Jess grabbed Nick's hand as another contraction hit. "Focal…focal," she wheezed.

Nick's felt the blood rush from his face. "Oh God, Jess, your focal point!" The Lamaze coach had instructed every mom to have an object to focus on when the pain started to get intense. Jess had lovingly picked out a knob from the dresser Nick made for her years ago when they were just roommates and friends who were sometimes attracted to each other. The damn knob kept falling off, but Jess refused to get a new one, and – for some reason Nick never understood – decided to keep the old one in the dresser.

The said knob was sitting safely in the overnight bag, which Nick realized in horror was sitting in the backseat of the car. He rose to run back and grab the bag, but the ambulance driver chose that moment to pull out, and Nick slammed back onto the bench seat. He looked helplessly around him. Grabbing a variety of implements from the ambulance, Nick dismissed each one as a possible replacement for the focal point, tossing stethoscopes, air pressure cuffs and a giant syringe to the ground.

"Hey," one of the rescue workers protested, but another mouthed the words "first-time dad" to her.

Finally Nick leaned over Jess. "It's me, baby, I'm your focal point. Just look at me, Jess. Look at me and breathe," he pleaded. "You are doing great. I am so proud of you." Jess stared at Nick, breathing and grasping his arm until he could see the furrow of pain in her brow ease. A little smile caught her lips. "Good move, Miller," she said quietly. It was only then Nick heard the rumble of the motorcycles alongside the ambulance, and realized Zeke was giving them a Harley-filled escort to the hospital.

After what seemed like five minutes after they arrived at the hospital, Nick was leaning over his brand, new daughter. "She is so tiny," he whispered in awe. He kissed Jess' head. "She is a beautiful as her mom."

"And we already know she hates chocolate-covered strawberries," laughed Jess as she ran a finger over Sophie's small hand. Her daughter wrapped her fingers around Jess' pinky and made a sound somewhere between a gurgle and a coo.

Cece peeked in the door. "How is the new family?" she asked. Jess smiled at her and waved her in. She peeked at the bundle wrapped in Jess' arms.

"Is Schmidt out there with Winston and Coach?" Nick asked. He had promised to update them as soon as Sophie came, but he could not pull himself away.

Cece rolled her eyes. "Yes, he is out there, trying to wheel our daughter in the ridiculous stroller the size of an SUV around the multitude of bikers in the waiting room. Who are those guys?"

Jess laughed. "Ah, that would be Zeke's boys, the OB/GYNs of the biker world," she said. Pulling on Nick's sleeve, she added, "You better get out there and keep Schmidt from getting punched by a biker."

Nick nodded and gave one quick look at Jess and Sophie. "Ya know I love you, right?"

Jess smiled that thousand-watt smile. "Of course, daddy. Now go," she shooed him with her hand. Nick gave her a lopsided grin and hurried out the door.

Now that same grin settled on Nick's features as he surveyed the messy kitchen, covered in cupcake batter. He looked at Sophie and winked. "Maybe go for cream cheese frosting?" She smiled, jumped off the stool, and skipped to the refrigerator.

"Good move, Miller," whispered Jess, and pulled him in for a kiss.

When he pulled away, Nick thought sadly of the time. "I have to get to work," he sighed. "You gonna be okay here?"

Jess smiled and leaned in close. "Of course, I will. I'm looking right at my focal point." She winked. "We'll bring the cupcakes by the bar later."

Nick gave her one more quick kiss. "Bring extra, Big Bob is working tonight." He turned to leave, but spun back around. "Bye, Millers."

"Bye daddy," all three yelled. Nick smiled and walked to the car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Loop de loops**

"How is this MY fault?" Nick asked as he watched his wife crawl along the living room floor.

Peeking under the couch, Jess sighed. "I did not say it was your fault, Nicholas. I said it would be nice if you could help me LOOK." She reached into the darkness under the couch and pulled a few Legos and a tattered Barbie into the light.

"What do you think I've been doing?" he griped, and pulled up the cushion of his favorite chair.

Jess rolled her eyes. "He's NOT going to be in the cushions, Nick. He is about five inches tall!" She dumped the latest stash of hidden items onto the coffee table and peered under a bookshelf.

It had only been a few minutes since Sophie came to them with a guilty look on her face. After some mom-tone questioning from Jess, Sophie quickly caved. Pulling her pink hoodie over her head, she admitted she pulled their new pet turtle from his glass tank so he could dance with her around her room. Thinking he looked hungry, she skipped to the kitchen to get him some lettuce, but when she returned, he was gone. A fast search of Sophie's room came up empty, so Nick and Jess had moved to the living room.

"Yeah, well I'm the one who said we should get the mesh cover for the tank, but NO," Nick chided, dropping into his high-pitched impersonation of Jess. "'Oh Nick, we can't have that on top of the tank. It would be like a little mesh prison for him.' Ugh. I never thought I would miss Bubbles." Nick hurled the cushion back in place and dropped to the floor, looking under the chair. "Hey, Russ!" he called under the chair. "Come here, boy."

"He's not a dog, Nick!" Jess snapped, and crawled to look under another bookshelf. "And where do you get off calling him Russ?"

Nick's head popped up from the floor. "What's wrong with Russ?" he asked.

"Arrrgh! Why would you name a pet after my former boyfriend?" Jess hissed.

Nick sat on the floor. "Huh. I guess I didn't think about it," he said with a shrug. "He does have lovely eyes like Russell used to have."

Jess tossed a Lego at his head. "How would you feel if we got a pet and named her Caroline?"

Nick dodged the Lego and grimaced. "Well, if it was a parrot that only said things that make me feel crappy about myself, then I'd say fine!"

Jess scooted angrily over to Nick. "That's it, Nick. You NEVER think about things. You just DO them. Like buying that stupid porta potty, and jumping into the vent at Cece's wedding, and …"

"What, kissing you? 'Cause I think that one turned out okay," Nick said, picking up the Lego that missed his head. "Ya know, Jess, if you are going to list everything I've done wrong over the years, then I can just take a nap in the corner here until you're done." He tossed the Lego onto the table and looked at her. "Or maaaaaybe you can tell me what's actually bugging you."

Jess stared at him. "What are you talking about? Our child's pet is missing, and you are barely helping."

"I mean YOU," Nick snapped. "You never argue about what you really want to argue about. It's like riding a roller coaster, and I never know when the loop and drop is coming." He twirled his finger in a huge circle. "I think I'm following you, then LOOP, we're off in some other place."

Jess swatted at his finger. "Quit doing that, it reminds of when you followed me to the Indian marriage convention."

Nick leaned in closer. "How many times to do I have to tell you, that I DID NOT follow you! I followed Schmidt because he could not drive in his dress."

"Ugh, whatever," Jess huffed and stood up. "I'm going to look in the playroom."

Nick stood as well, and grabbed her arm. "Jess, what is going on? Why are you so angry?"

Jess yanked her arm away. "Nothing! Nothing is wrong. I love seeing you flirt with other women."

Nick blanched and then stared at her. "And LOOP!" he cried, his arm moving in an arc around his head. "WHAT are you talking about, Jess?"

Poking him with a finger, Jess said in a low voice. "You know very well what I am talking about, Nick Miller. I cannot believe you would even try to deny it. I was there!"

Nick pushed away her hand. "Quit jabbing me with your bony, little finger and tell me what you are talking about. You were where?"

"At the bar! Strolling in there, with YOUR children, bringing YOU cupcakes, and there you were, Mr. Cool Nick Miller, FLIRTING with some girl behind the bar!" Jess's voice echoed off the walls.

Nick's features scrunched in question. "Are you talking about Delia?" he asked.

"Is that her name?" Jess huffed. "I thought about calling her Raven-Haired-Beauty-Laughing-With-My-Husband-and-P ushing-Her-Comic-Book-Heroine-Sized-Chest-At-Him." 

A slow smile crept across Nick's lips. "That's quite a name, Jess. What does she use for a nickname?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you laugh at me, Nick. You were flirting with a girl half your age in front of your wife, and then you GAVE HER ONE OF OUR CUPCAKES!" Jess spun around to storm out the room, but Nick grabbed her again. Gently he pulled her to him.

"Jess, that was Del, Big Bob's niece? I've known her since she was seven," he said gently. Jess' eyes widened. "That's right. I told you about her. She was trying to learn to be a bartender and she was _terrible_. That's why we were laughing. She'd just agreed to be a waitress for the bar instead." He looked at his wife and saw the rosy blush of embarrassment flood her cheeks. He bushed his hands along her arms. "Sooooo, you were jealous?" he asked lightly.

She shook her head softly, then sighed. "I guess I was a little jealous." Jess looked at Nick. "I mean, look at me. I'm a cupcake-baking, song-singing, school teacher and mom. How unsexy can you get?" Her eyes darted to the ground.

Nick let small puff of air escape his lips. He placed a hand on Jess' cheek and eased her head up until she met his gaze. "Hey, that is MY cupcake-baking, song-singing wife you are talking about, and I think she is the sexist thing I have ever seen."

Jess sighed. "Nick, you have to say that."

He shook his head. "You never did see how gorgeous you really are, did you?" She tried to look down, but he held her gaze. "You are beautiful," he leaned in to kiss her cheek. "And smart," he kissed the other cheek. "And funny," he kissed her chin. "And sweet," he kissed her forehead. "And quirky," he kissed her nose. "And completely and totally frustrating in every way." She started to laugh, but Nick slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her into a deep kiss. When he finally pulled away, she was smiling.

"Got it bad, do you Miller?" she teased lightly.

He laughed. "That I do, Mrs. Miller." He gave her another quick kiss.

Still smiling, she pulled on his arm. "Come on, we better go check on Sophie and Walt, and see how their search for _Russ _is going." Jess headed down the hallway and stopped in front of the playroom doorway. "I guess they found him," she said.

Nick turned the corner to see Russ munching on a pile of Cheerios that Walt was happily dumping from a bag, and Sophie putting the finishing touches of wrapping one of her tutus around the turtle's shell. "Now he can dance with us!" announced Sophie.

Jess crossed her arms, and Nick slipped his arm around her shoulders. "You gotta admit, he had beautiful eyes."

"Ugh, Miller!" she mumbled and lightly jabbed Nick in the ribs with her elbow.

"Ooooof," he grunted. Rubbing his side, Nick leaned over and kissed his wife.


	10. Chapter 10

**_The Millers are back with more happy feels. I've had requests to make these more serious, but I cannot help that these guys are just darn cute! I promise to try for something more serious soon (though I shall probably not succeed).  
_**

Sophie curled up with her mother on the couch with a book, while Walt crashed his Matchbox car into walls of Legos, destroying what he had carefully constructed only moments before. From the kitchen, Jess could hear Nick doing his best to "fancy fix" the spice rack in the cabinet.

"Everything all right in there?" she called after one rather loud cracking noise, followed by indecipherable grumbling from her husband. Nick growled back with something that sounded like "Blalhum!" Jess and Sophie shrugged, and returned to their story.

"'Who will help me harvest the wheat? asked the Little Red Hen,'" Jess read as Sophie stared intently at the pictures. "'Not I, said the cat. Not I, said the dog. Not I, said the rooster. Then I will do it myself, said the Little Red Hen passive aggressively, because I must continue my martyr syndrome.'"

Sophie's eyes narrowed. "Um, mommy, I don't think that's what it says."

Jess smiled. "Think of this as the annotated version, sweetie," she said, giving her a little hug.

A much larger crash rattled the kitchen, with a series of small popping sounds that Jess could swear were several plastic jars of spice plunking down onto Nick's head. "You sure you're okay?" she called.

A moment later, Nick leaned his head into the living room. "Jess, do you want me to fix this thing or have a conversation with you?" She stared at him for a moment, then smiled slowly, doing her best not to point out something that looked like oregano dotting his forehead. Nick frowned. "I will FIX this, Jessica," he said evenly, and ducked back into the kitchen.

Jess laughed softly. "That's your daddy," she said with a grin. Sophie stared at her for a moment, then closed the book on Jess' lap. She stretched out her legs in front of her. Jess' smile faded. She knew this was Sophie's way of telling her something important was on her mind. "What is it, Sophie?" she asked.

Sophie folded her hands in her lap. "Mommy, I am thinking of getting married."

Jess bit back a smile and did everything she could to nod with a serious expression. "That is very interesting, dear. Do you have a spouse in mind?"

Looking down at her hands, Sophie nodded. "Yes. His name is Freddy, and he is in my class."

Continuing to nod, Jess remembered Freddy, a gangly boy with slight asthma. Sophie's teacher let Jess know her daughter often defended Freddy on the playground. "He made me a necklace of Apple Jacks in art class, and said it means we are engaged, but I told him I have to think about it," Sophie said in a low voice.

"That is a very mature thing to do, Sophie," said Jess. "I think you should …"

She was interrupted by an intense hammering coming from the kitchen. "Nick!" she yelled. "We are having a VERY important discussion here!"

"What?" he called back, and continued to slam something with a hammer.

"Sophie is thinking of getting MARRIED!" she hollered. The hammering ceased.

"Could you repeat that, Jessica?" he asked slowly as he walked into the living room.

Jess bit her lip and smiled at Nick over her daughter's head. "Freddy has proposed to our Sophie, and she is thinking about it."

Nick's turtle face made an appearance. "The wheezing kid?" he asked, and Jess shot him a "be nice" look.

Walt, whose attention had bounced from Jess to Nick, suddenly laughed. "Daddy looks like Russ!" he clapped, before turning back to his newest Lego tower.

Sophie looked at Nick. "Daddy, I know he is supposed to ask you if it is okay for him to marry me, but I think he was very happy and just gave me the Apple Jacks. Is that okay?"

Nick pondered his daughter for a moment. "Um, sweetie, I really had not planned on you dating until after I was dead, so I'm not sure where breakfast cereals come in here." He shrugged at Jess, who just smiled as Sophie looked up at her.

"Momma, when did daddy ask you to marry him?" she asked.

"Oh, well actually…" Jess began.

"Your mom sorta asked me," Nick finished, and smiled at his wife.

The memory of the day they became engaged was still clear in Jessica's mind. How could she forget?

Jess and Nick stood under a bright, red umbrella with Winston. They watched as Cece ran screaming past them, with a monkey chasing her. A moment later, Schmidt raced after her, screeching "Ceceeeeeeee!" as an elephant trumpeted behind him.

"Well," said Nick. "That pretty much went as expected." Jess and Winston nodded.

Several weeks before that fateful day, Schmidt announced he planned to propose. "It must be big. It must be as lavish as my love for my darling Indian treasure. It must be as overwhelming as the insurmountable obstacles fate placed before us," he declared, standing in the kitchen one morning.

"Schmidt, the only obstacle was your inability to decide between Cece and Elizabeth," Nick sighed.

"Ex-act-ly, Nicholas!" Schmidt slammed his hand on the counter. "What brought Elizabeth into my life?"

"Uh, you did," Winston said, taking a drink of his coffee. "When you asked her to Cece's wedding."

Schmidt pointed at Winston. "Yes, my wise, brown friend. It was the FATES that tempted me to Elizabeth!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "So why not just ask Cece?"

"Ask Cece what?" Jess asked, walking into the kitchen and planting a kiss on Nick's cheek. He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Nick smiled at her. "Your tea is almost ready. Schmidt…"

Schmidt was gesturing wildly to Nick to keep his mouth shut. "I can SEE you, Schmidt," said Jess. "What is up?" He scribbled a quick note on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

"Nothing , but the greatest surprise of Cece's life," Schmidt said, pointing at the note. "Just have Cece here at this time, Miss Jessica Day, and tell her to get ready to have her socks knocked off."

"I don't think I've ever seen Cece wear socks," said Nick. Everyone looked at one another and pondered the image of Cece's footwear.

Schmidt waved his hands in frustration. "Hello? Life-altering moments soon to happen here!"

Winston scratched his neck. "What about that time she slept over and could not find her slippers?"

"No," answered Jess, "she borrowed my slippers that day." They all nodded in agreement.

"Ugh! Soulless barbarians!," Schmidt shouted. "Schmidt out!" And he stormed out of the loft.

Jess did as promised, and delivered Cece to the park at Schmidt's appointed time. As soon as she caught one look at the scene, she tried to drag her best friend back to the car. But it was too late. The Indian dancers raced to Cece, draping colorful shawls and veils above her head and Bollywood dancing her to a grassy spot. They whirled around her, lifting the veils to reveal several monkeys doing flips near an acrobat.

"The monkeys were Coach's idea," muttered Nick, as Jess made her way to him and Winston. He looked over at Coach, who was giving them two thumbs up.

Pushing an umbrella into her hand, Winston mumbled, "You are gonna need this."

Jess took the umbrella. "Do I want to know why?" Winston shook his head.

Nick watched the scene with a look of slight horror. "He wanted to recreate her favorite scene from a movie where the couple agrees to get married and then kisses in the rain. Bassoon Weddings, or something like that."

"Monsoon Wedding, Nick," corrected Winston with a sigh. "He's set up sprinklers all around us, and will set them off after the elephant gives her the ring."

"The WHAT?" Jess yelled. Her head whipped to Cece. A dancer was covering her eyes as Schmidt approached astride a giant elephant. "Oh God," whispered Jess. "Cece is _petrified_ of elephants." The three of them huddled closer as the elephant lifted a small box in its trunk right in front of Cece.

The dancer pulled away his hands, and they all sucked in their breath. Cece stared wide-eyed for a second, before emitting an ear-piercing scream and jumping away. Her scream startled the creature, and it backed away and began to rear. The elephant's trainer tried to settle the beast, but still they could see Schmidt hanging on for dear life. "Cece!" he yelled, then turned to the trainer. "Get me off this poisonous pachyderm!"

Cece plowed through the dancers, sending one into the monkey handler, who released the leashes. The monkeys scattered. As Coach dove for one, he tripped the lever for the sprinklers, and a deluge of water cascaded down on them.

Jess opened the umbrella, and watched as her best friend ran screaming into the park, followed by an irate monkey and a desperate Schmidt.

"Well," said Nick. "That pretty much went as expected." Jess and Winston nodded.

Winston sighed. "I better go and retrieve the ring and see if got flattened by an elephant." He trotted off toward the trainer, who was just getting his care under control.

Jess surveyed the scene of chaos for a moment more. "I just want you to know, Nick, that I would say yes," she said simply.

"Huh?" Nick asked and flinched as a dancer and Coach collided when they dove for the same monkey.

Not looking at him, she said, "If you ever felt like asking me to marry you, that would be my answer."

Nick froze for a moment and stared at Jess. She smiled slowly. "Not that I think it is time, or that you have to ask me. I'm just saying you would not have to do anything like this," she gestured to the pandemonium in front of them. "Not that you WOULD do anything like this," she laughed, "but I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't have to face back sweats or panic moonwalking." She looked at him. "I do not expect you to ask me, but if you ever felt like it, you wouldn't have to worry about the answer."

She turned back to see Coach chase the last monkey into a cage and slam the lid shut. The elephant was drinking water from a puddle that formed from the sprinklers, and all of the dancers had made it to drier ground. Jess reached out from under the umbrella and felt the water on her fingers. "I guess we'd better go find Cece," she sighed.

"Me, too," said Nick quietly.

"Huh?" Jess asked, looking back at Nick. He turned and faced the rolling green of the park. "That would be my answer, too, if you ever asked me."

Jess' mouth dropped open. "What?" she asked weakly.

Nick's lips ticked up into a half smile. "If you ever decided to propose to me, I'd say yes."

Her eyes grew round. Jess tried to think of something to say, but the only sound from her lips was a startled gasp. Nick looked at her and gave her a full-on Miller smile, the one that made her stomach do flip-flops and her breath catch in her throat. "You…you've thought about it?" she asked, though it came out as more of a squeak.

Nick gave a slight shrug, then nodded. "Well sure, Jess. I mean, it's you. Of course I've thought about it." He looked up. "I think the fake rain may be letting up."

Jess stared at Nick, her unbelievably handsome, caring, grumpy, sexy, flawed Nick. He looked back at her, studying her face, and placed a hand gently on her cheek. "Marry me, Nick," she whispered.

"Okay," he said, and a sexy smile spread across his lips. She reached up and pulled him into a kiss, losing herself in the feel of his mouth on hers. The forgotten umbrella fell away, but neither of them seemed to notice as the water tumbled over their heads.

Now Jess glanced at her husband and smiled. He was sitting in a chair, with Walt on his lap. "Wow," said Sophie. "That sure beats an Apple Jacks necklace," she sighed.

"It's not a competition, Sophie," said Jess. "I just want you to be aware that you will know when you are ready to spend your life with someone. It's just…simple."

Nick winked at her. Walt peered up at his father. "Did the elephant step on a monkey?" he asked. Nick shook his head.

"Nope, no flattened monkeys. And Winston found the ring." Nick said.

Walt sighed. "It would have been better if there was a flattened monkey." He slid off Nick's lap.

Nick stood up and walked over to Jess. "I think it was pretty perfect the way it was." He kissed her on the head, then kissed Sophie. "Seriously, no dating until you are at least 30," he said, looking at his daughter. He froze and glanced at Jess. "I think I just had a Bob moment there."

She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. "I think it's perfect, too," she whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Pep talks **

Jess squeezed Nick's arm and buried her head behind his shoulder. He wondered silently how his petite wife could manage such a violent grip.

"I can't look. Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick," she mumbled against his hoodie. Peeking up for a moment, she whispered. "How could they DO this to him? _Twice_ in a row."

Nick looked out on the lush green of the park and sighed. His gaze drifted back to his son, who looked just barely bigger than the plate where he stood. Walt swayed side to side, kicked some dirt, then flapped his baseball glove against his leg a couple of times.

"It's first base, Jess," Nick said, patting her hand and carefully peeling her vice-like grasp from his arm. "He's not going into battle."

"But he played first base last inning," she hissed. "All the plays go there." Jess' frown popped into a sudden smile as a mom navigated her small child down the bleachers toward the park restrooms. "Don't ya love baseball?" she called. Turning back to Nick, her features fell and the worry returned to her giant, blue eyes. "He should not have to do it more than once. They should let him play outfield."

Nick pursed his lips, keeping in check the indulgent smile that threatened to escape. "Jess, it's T-ball. Half the time they barely hit it off the tee," he gestured to the tight line of boys in the field. "There IS no outfield to play."

Jess bit her lip and glanced again at Walt. "Winston should know better than to have him play first base twice."

Nick shook his head, unsure Jess was even listening. He glanced at Winston standing at the chain link fence by the dugout. His childhood friend pulled on his blue baseball cap, emblazoned with the call letters of the radio station he helped manage. When Walt's team lost their sponsor – a small pizzeria that went out of business – Winston convinced the station owner to take over. "Good PR move and community relations," he told his boss.

The whole team had become a family affair of sorts. Although they declined Schmidt and Cece's offer to "spruce up" the uniforms, Jess did sew the names of each player on the back of their shirts. When the team coach announced he was having back surgery, Coach jumped in to take his place. _That lasted about a week_, thought Nick, remembering Coach's first shouting match with the umpire, who could not have been more than 15. All of the boys on the field stared, mouths agape, at the large man lobbing a flurry of insults at the stunned teen. Finally, Nick and Winston pulled Coach away and made him sit in the car. Before the "good PR move" became a nightmare, Winston took over coaching duties.

"Okay now, remember to call for the ball," Winston shouted to the team, talking slowly. Waving both arms to first base, he carefully mimicked a toss. "If you get it, throw the ball to Walt. Remember to step…point…and throw."

Nick rubbed his chin to cover a smile. He knew it killed the ever-overachieving Winston to watch the boys fumble around the field. Every time they bobbled the ball, or forgot to run to a base, Winston would curl his arms to his chest or squeeze his hands, before calling out a stilted, "Good try, guys!" Though the look in his eyes said he wanted to turn around and bash his head on the fence. Of course, it all made for some great laughs for Nick.

With the muffled _whuuump_ of the bat, Nick turned to watch the ball sail gently toward the shortstop, who simply stared as it rolled between his legs. Another player ran over, grabbed the ball, and threw it several feet over Walt's head.

The fence jangled as the ball smacked into it, and Winston jogged over and scooped it from the ground. "Good try, Jonah, but remember to keep your glove down," he called to the shortstop, who nodded furiously in response. "And Andrew, good arm, but aim that throw at Walt." He tossed the ball to the opposing coach and returned to the fence, quietly mumbling to himself.

Nick heard Jess let out a quiet sigh of relief. He tried again not to laugh about how worked up she got at a kid's T-ball game. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Nick turned to see Sophie. "How much longer, daddy?" she asked. "Jude and I want to go to the playground." Nick looked over at Sophie's friend, who was talking with the older brother of one of the players. Schmidt and Cece had decided to take a booty burn class together on Saturday mornings, which Schmidt called "sexy-bonding-fitness-time." So Jess volunteered to bring Jude to Walt's game.

"It's T-ball, sweetie," Nick said quietly, "It lasts about two innings after you think you can't stand it anymore." That comment was rewarded with a light punch on his arm from Jess. He bit back another smile and added, "Not long now, Soph." She nodded and walked back to her friend.

Jess grabbed Nick's arm once again. "Do you see the size of that kid?" she whispered as a child about twice the height of Walt stepped up to bat. "He _cannot_ be five!"

Before Nick could respond, the batter slammed the ball away from the tee. Little boys scattered like ants to run after the ball, or get out of its way. By some miracle, one of the players managed to pick it up and chuck it toward Walt. Even Nick held his breath as Walt stretched up on his tiptoes. The ball tipped his glove, but bounced off and into the grass behind him. The giant child lumbered easily to first.

Jess blew out a dejected breath. "Poor Walt, he almost had it." Nick patted her leg gently. _These games are harder on her than the players_, Nick thought. He glanced to Walt, who was looking at the stands toward Sophie, a scowl set on his small features. _Uh oh_, Nick thought. _Maybe it's tough on everyone_. The next child at bat popped the ball up, and caught it himself. Both coaches shrugged, and decided he was out. Nick watched Walt slump his shoulders and head slowly toward the dugout.

"Nick," Jess whispered, but he was already standing up. "I got it." He pulled a Gatorade from the cooler and headed toward the dugout. Nodding at Winston, he crouched down next to a despondent Walt. "Hey, little man, good try out there," he said, twisting open the bottle and handing him the Gatorade. "You looked like you could use something a little stronger than water."

Walt only nodded and took a chug of the blue-colored drink. He looked down and picked at the dugout's wooden bench.

Nick sighed. "You know, you are getting pretty darn good. You just have to keep at it," he said softly. His son looked up at him. It always startled Nick to see his own eyes looking back at him. Jess called Walt a mini-Nick, except he had her stark, raven hair. Seeing the sad expression in those brown eyes cut into Nick every time.

"I'm not mad about the play, daddy," Walt said quietly. "That guy was the size of Godzilla, and Jonah throws like he has noodle arms – at least that's what Uncle Winnie says when he thinks I can't hear."

Coughing back a laugh, Nick reminded himself to tell Winston to mumble more silently. Walt looked again at the stands. "Why is she talking to Andrew's brother? He's way too old for Jude, daddy. He's 9!"

Nick followed his son's gaze to see Jude, laughing with a boy about her age in the stands. Realization dawned on Nick as he watched Jude push a strand of hair out of her eyes and smile. _My kid has it bad_, he thought. He placed a hand on Walt's shoulder. "Maybe they are just friends, Walt," he offered with a weak shrug, and was greeted with a 5-year-old's eye roll.

"She _likes_ him, dad," Walt motioned to her. "I know, 'cause I _like_ her."

Nick stood up, and scooted Walt over on the bench. He took a seat next to his son. "You know, three years is a big age difference. You're five and she is eight." Walt opened his mouth to protest, but Nick held up his hand. "It's a big gap _now_," he said. "But someday, maybe it won't seem like so much to either of you. You just have to…well…play it by ear."

Walt's look scrunched in confusion. "Play what?" he asked.

"Play it by ear," Nick laughed as he said it. "Just let things happen and see where they lead." Walt nodded slowly, as if digesting the thought.

_Play it by ear. _Nick smiled as he remembered that line. It became a mantra for him and Jess. About six months into dating, it became a catchphrase they both used whenever anyone pushed them to define what they had. "Oh I don't know, we're playing it by ear," she would say, giving him a wink. And Nick had been fine with that. And then found he was not so fine with it.

"Daddy, when did you know you really liked mommy?" Walt asked.

Nick smiled slowly, glancing over at his wife who was handing Sophie, Jude and the object of Walt's disdain little packages of Goldfish crackers. He knew the exact moment he realized he was in love with Jessica Day.

It wasn't a grand or epic moment, like you see in the movies. Nick just walked through the door of the loft, dead tired after a busy shift at the bar. All day he'd felt restless, as though something important was floating around him, but he couldn't quite grasp what it might be.

He stepped into the dimness of the living room, and saw her. Jess lay on the couch, fast asleep with a stack of half-graded papers surrounding her. Her dark hair spilled down, shielding part of her delicate face. As Nick leaned over to brush the locks behind her ear, he noticed a smudge of what he assumed to be lemon frosting on her cheek. Laughing silently, he glanced at the counter to see her latest culinary creation on the kitchen island. Nick pondered the idea of kissing the frosting off her cheek. As he was about to do just that, he froze. _Oh my God, I am in love with Jessica Day_.

The thought hit him suddenly, out of nowhere. Nick could not deny it. He looked down at her and just _knew_. His eyes opened wide. The realization knocked the wind out of him and buckled his knees. He slid down to the coffee table. _How in the hell did that happen?_ he thought. _When did it happen?_

Nick wracked his brain to gather a coherent thought. Was it watching the tears gather in her eyes as she begged him to uncall it? Brushing his fingers against her soft skin the morning after they had first been together? Feeling the touch of her gentle hand as he stood at his father's funeral? Was it earlier? Building her a dresser before he even admitted he was attracted to her? Standing in the desert, as Jess told him she was going to be okay because she met him?

Staring at her, the restlessness that plagued him earlier – for a couple of weeks if he admitted it to himself – vanished. It had been an idea floating around him, he realized. The idea that Nick Miller loved Jessica Day. He gave a halting laugh.

At this moment, Nick had no idea what to do. How did he tell her? _Did_ he tell her? Would it ruin everything? He remained where he was, too startled to move for a while. Finally, he sighed. This would all be here tomorrow. She would be here tomorrow, with him. Tonight, he needed to get Jess somewhere more comfortable than the couch.

Reaching down, Nick eased Jess into his arms. "Come on, Miss Day, you need to get to bed," he whispered. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Nick," she whispered, snuggling her head into his shoulder. He smiled as the sound of her voice made his stomach do a couple of somersaults. _Yup_, a voice answered through his scattered thoughts. _You have it bad, Miller. _

Now, looking at their son, Nick wondered how to tell a 5-year-old when he figured it all out. That is wasn't just one moment, but a culmination of a million different moments that didn't end.

It was dancing with her for the first time. The day she reached for his hand as they walked along the beach. Kissing Jess in the moonlight on the roof of the loft. The helpless pull of just holding her in his arms the night her grandmother died. The determined look in her eyes when she told him she thought he would be a wonderful bar owner. The way she whispered his name when she proposed. The giggle she let slip after they said their vows. The little dance she did when they signed the papers on their house. Seeing her quiet Sadie's crying little boy, and realizing someday he wanted that with her. The curve of her arm when she held a newborn Sophie. The mischievous twinkle in her eye when she told him about Walt.

Loving Jess was there in every smile she gave him, every flash of her blue eyes, every moment they shared. How in hell do you tell a 5-year-old that?

Nick scratched his head. "Well, buddy, I have to tell you. Sometimes love just sneaks up on you," he said with a shrug.

Walt nodded. "Yeah, it does," he said quietly and took another swig of Gatorade.

Nick took off Walt's ball cap and tousled his hair. "I tell you what. I may not be able to give you great love advice, but I can give you some standard guy advice." Walt looked at him with a glimmer of hope. "You get up, hit that ball hard and make it to base. I guarantee Jude will stop looking at that dufus and cheer for you."

Walt pondered the thought for a moment, then a small smile crept across his face. "Andrew's brother can't get on base right now, can he?" he said.

Nick shook his head. "Nope. That's all you. And I think you're on deck. You ready?" He held up a hand for a quick high-five from Walt, then jogged back to the bleachers.

"Everything okay?" Jess asked as Nick slid next to her.

Nick nodded. "Ya know, guy stuff," he said, watching Walt put on the somewhat massive batting helmet.

"Bend your knees Walt!" called Winston. Walt nodded, took a swing and _whap!_ – the ball soared toward the outfield, which stood barren of little boys.

Jess stood up with a squeal of delight. Walt stood, momentarily stunned. "Go Walt!" shouted Nick. Shaking himself out of it, Walt took off like lightening for the first base, clearing it before the other team even located the ball.

Walt beamed and glanced at the bleachers where his sister and Jude were jumping up and down, clapping. He waved to them, and they waved back wildly. "Way to go, Walt!" yelled Jude. He glanced to his dad, and gave him a huge thumbs up.

Nick laughed. Jess slipped her hands around his waist. "That must have been some pep talk, Miller," she said. His wife gave him a kiss on the cheek, that still – somehow – made his stomach flutter a little. _Yep, you have it bad, Miller_, he thought, and shot a thumbs up to his son.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 - The Next Chapter **

Jess bit her bottom lip and stared at the bin of toys. "I just don't think Walt should get all the Legos. It gives Sophie the impression that girls cannot build things." She pushed through the tub of small, plastic pieces. "We can separate them in half, then they can both keep some." She looked to Nick, who was busy drilling a screw into place on Sophie's bedframe. The whir of the drill eased as the screw slipped firmly into place. He glanced up at Jess.

"Um, sure," Nick said, pointing the drill at the Legos, "but you know he's just going to sneak them out of her room. Godzilla cannot knock over small buildings."

Jess sighed as she dumped half the Legos into a smaller bin. Walt and Nick had spent one afternoon watching a Godzilla marathon on TV, and now her son was obsessed. There was always one part of the day Walt dedicated to destroying cities with the stuffed green, mutant lizard he begged his father to buy.

"I guess you are right, but I'd still like to make the effort to split the toys," Jess said. She moved to the corner of the room where a pile of stuffed animals lay. She cringed at the idea of the kids fighting over the animals. Running the smooth, floppy ear of a stuffed dog between her thumb and fingers, she glanced at Nick. "Do you think it's too early for them to have separate rooms?"

Nick stopped the drill and leveled a look at Jess. "Jessica, I have already disassembled a child's bed, moved all the pieces to another room, and am now putting it back together in a game of high-stakes Legos. The drill is in motion. It's too late," he said. She nodded slowly, but continued to stare at the dog.

Sophie's eighth birthday was two weeks away, and she had asked if she could have her own room as one of her presents. Jess knew the day would come, but the request still startled her a bit. She placed the stuffed dog to her side, creating a pile for Walt. "You'll stay here, Fluff," she whispered to the dog. To anyone else, it was a beat-up stuffed dog with an eye missing. To Jess, Fluff meant the teary face of Walt, whom she tried to comfort after a round of immunization shots. Buying the vitamins the doctor recommended that day, she whipped up the little dog off an aisle shelf and made him dance for her sullen son. When he finally erupted in a peal of giggles, Jess felt relief wash over her. She handed Walt the stuffed animal. "Fluff," he whispered and snuggled it.

Jess looked around the room. Every corner was full of memories of rocking babies and stuffed animal fights. Jess could still see Nick growling as he conquered Sophie's "some assembly required" doll house after midnight on Christmas Eve. She recalled it was right where she was sitting now when Nick gave her one of his most severe turtle faces – when he discovered Jess and Walt playing with his old Star Wars figures, but Jess had them asking one another to the prom.

Now it would all be different. Jess had offered her small sewing room as an option for Sophie, but Nick said it would be better if they just converted the playroom into a bedroom, and split the toys. Walt announced his displeasure with the arrangement by pulling the heads off of several of Sophie's Barbie dolls, but Nick finally convinced him it was good for single guys to have a "man cave" of their own. Nick even promised to fix up the old foosball table he'd had in the garage for about a year, and put it in Walt's room. Jess shuddered to herself, wondering what Nick might use to replace the broken, wooden men.

"There," Nick said, giving the frame a wiggle. "Good and solid. Now for the box spring." He looked at Jess. "Want to give me a hand?" he said to Jess. She nodded and followed him to what she always thought of as "the kids' room." Nick tipped Sophie's box spring on its side and waited for Jess to grab the end. Seeing the look on her face, he stopped. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

She shrugged, then pursed her lips in frustration, realizing tears were brimming on her lashes. "I don't know," she said. "They're just getting older." A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Nick gave a little laugh. "Oh, babe, don't cry." He moved over to his wife and gave her a soft hug. He tipped her chin up so he could look at her watery, blue eyes. "They aren't moving out, Jess. It's just another room." She nodded and sniffed.

"I know. I just…."

"Don't like that it has to change," Nick finished. Jess' eyes locked on his as a smile shadowed her sad features. He smiled. "You know, some wise woman once told me that sometimes change means things just keep getting better." He placed a gentle kiss on her nose.

Jess smiled. "Throwing my words at me, Miller? Sneaky," she said. Jess eased into Nick's arms.

It had been years ago when Jess had uttered the same phrase to Nick during their last days in the loft. Cece and Schmidt were moving in together and Winston wanted to get a place closer to the radio station where he worked. Nick and Jess thought about keeping the loft for themselves, but decided it would better to get a place of their own. At least, that's what Jess thought they decided.

"This one has a fireplace, that's nice," said Jess, as they walked through the fourth apartment showing of the day. So far, Nick had found fault with each of the previous three – too much light, not enough light, no access to the roof, bathroom too dated, and (her favorite complaint so far) the neighbor smelled of cheese.

"It's LA, Jess," Nick scowled. "You think we need to curl up by a nice fire when it's 92 degrees?" Nick thumped the wall. "I don't know, Jess. These walls seem pretty flimsy."

She sighed. "I think the walls are fine, Nick," she said, straining to keep patience in her voice. "And look at that – we'd have a view of a small park."

Nick snorted. "Great, we can watch people get mugged at night."

Tossing the apartment flier on the smooth, white counter, Jess rolled her eyes. "Okay, Miller, I give up. Where do you want to live?" She leaned her elbows on the counter and flopped her chin onto her hands. "Because we are through the list of ones we can afford." She pointed out the window. "This one is not that far from the bar, and only about 20 minutes in good traffic to the school. It has access to the roof, just enough light, and I do not detect a hint of cheese smell anywhere. So, tell me why you don't want to live here." She stopped ranting for a moment as a thought crossed her mind. _Unless it's me_. _Maybe I'm what's wrong. _

Jess stood up slowly and walked to him. "Nick, are you trying to find a way to tell me you do not want to move in with me?" she asked.

Nick's head snapped back at the question. "What? No!" He stepped toward her and slowly rubbed her arms. "Jess, we live together now, and practically share your room as it is."

She looked down at the cream-colored carpet. "Then what is it, Nick?" she asked quietly. "I don't think any of the places we saw looked awful today." Hearing him sigh, she glanced up and into his chocolate-brown eyes.

"Jess, sweetie, I'm just not good with change. You know that," he said.

"Do you want to try and stay in the loft?" she asked. "If that will make you happy, then we can find a way…."

"No Jess," he let go of her and walked to the kitchen counter. Leaning against it, he crossed his arms. "I know things have to change, but we just…I don't know…had a lot of good times there."

Jess walked to the counter and eased herself alongside Nick. "Lot of games of True American," she said.

He nodded. "Great space to chill out on the couch, watch TV," he said.

A small smile caught her lips. "Nice, big hallway. Great place to get kissed," she said.

He laughed softly. "We did a _lot_ of kissing in the hallway, didn't we?"

Jess turned so she was leaning against Nick's chest. "They'll be more memories wherever we go next, Nick."

He gave her a small sigh. "I know. It's just that…things are really great at the loft. What if I can't keep things great when it's just us?"

Now her smile blossomed and she ran her hands up to his shoulders. "Nick Miller, sometimes, when things change, they just keep getting better." She pulled herself up to brush her lips softly across his. Lacing her fingers into his thick hair, Jess pulled his mouth to her, deepening the kiss. _Life can only get better if I'm with you_, she thought as she playfully nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. She felt his silent laugh.

Smiling, Nick leaned back, looked at the apartment and nodded. "Okay, it's not bad. Glancing out the window, he added, "But that patio is the size of a postage stamp. We'd better go check the roof and see if we can have cookouts there." He wrapped his hand into hers and led her toward the door.

Now, Jess felt her husband brush away the lone tear from her cheek. She gave him a light smile. "Okay, okay, I'm ready for the next chapter," she said, adding to herself _because I have you. _

Nick gave her a light kiss and grabbed the edge of the box spring. "This things weighs a ton, so lift with your knees, Day." Jess locked her hands on the other end. "I'm ready," she said.

In a couple of hours, they were done sorting and arranging. Cece brought the kids home from a playdate, and Sophie raced to her room, emitting a squeal of joy. Jude and Sophie discussed which dolls should take up residence in the doll house, while Nick and Walt spent some time cleaning up the foosball table before they built a huge Lego city for Godzilla to destroy. When it was time for bed, both kids listened to story in "Walt's room" before Jess tucked Sophie into bed in her room.

Jess slid onto the couch next to Nick and patted his leg. "So, the next chapter begins, Miller," she said.

"How ya doing? You feeling okay?"

She nodded. "I guess it's silly to feel nostalgic. Kids are supposed to grow up. It's what they do."

A small shuffling sound drew Jess' attention back to the hallway. Nick gave her a curious look. She shrugged, and the two of them rose and walked quietly to Walt's room. There, in his bed, Sophie snuggled next to her little brother, her back to his. "Maybe not as fast as you think they do," whispered Nick, and gave his wife a small kiss on the cheek.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Your Teddy Bear**

**_No flashbacks this time, just Miller family sweetness_**

Nick opened the kitchen door as silently as he could. It was close to 1 a.m., and he hated the idea of waking his family. He rubbed his face, making his way into the living room. It had been an exhausting night, training a new night manager for the bar.

He shook his head. _These kids seem to get younger and younger_, he thought. It cracked him up that the new night manager seemed flustered in his presence, as if _Nick Miller, bar owner,_ was somehow intimidating. Of course, how old was the kid – 23 years old? 24? He guessed an owner of anything would be intimidating to someone in their 20s.

Nick rounded the corner, about to head to the bedroom, when he noticed a light in the kids' hallway. Realizing it came from the bathroom, he slowly slid open the door. There, sitting on the floor, sat a sad-looking Sophie on her mother's lap. With closed eyes, Jess rocked her gently, stroking her thick, brown hair.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" Nick asked, sliding down next to Jess and leaning his back against the cool porcelain of the tub. "Somebody not feeling well?"

Sophie nodded. "Hi daddy," she said quietly.

Jess opened her eyes, and Nick noticed the worry mingling with exhaustion in those deep blues. "She woke up around 11, and was sick about an hour later, poor baby," she told him, kissing the top of Sophie's head. "I don't think there is anything else in her tummy, but she is afraid to go back to sleep."

Reaching over, Nick gingerly rubbed Sophie's stomach. "Your tummy still hurt, baby doll?" he asked. She shook her head. "That's good." Nick looked at Jess, who could barely keep her eyes open. He knew she had been teaching all day, and had to face a classroom full of junior high kids tomorrow. Nick sighed to himself. These last few days had left her as good as a single mom each night. He picked up the kids from school, but she was just coming home as he was dashing off to work. He rubbed his neck. "I'll stay with Soph, Jess. You go get some sleep."

Jess shook her head. "You've been working all night, Nick. We'll be okay," she said. He wondered if she could hear the energy all but drained from her usual perky voice.

Nick smiled and brushed a wayward strand of hair from his wife's face. "Jess, believe it or not, this would not be the first time I would see someone vomit this evening." He shrugged, "I'm _that_ kind of cool."

She laughed softly. With a hesitant glance at Sophie, she nodded. "Sweetie, will you be okay with daddy? Mommy is going to lie down for a while." Sophie shifted her big, blue eyes to Nick, and carefully climbed off of Jess and into Nick's lap.

"Goodnight, momma," Sophie said, and lay her head on Nick's chest. _We're good_, he mouthed to Jess. She patted Sophie's arm and gave him a silent _Thank you _before she moved off to the bedroom.

Nick watched Sophie for a bit, trying to rock side to side like he'd seen Jess do when the kids were sick. "Did mommy sing to you tonight?" he asked.

Her little head nodded against his chest. "She sang Blackbird," said Sophie.

Nick smiled as he held her, remembering when Sophie was a baby and teething, she screamed for a couple of hours each night. Jess, somehow, discovered that singing The Beatles' song over and over was the only thing to quiet Sophie.

"You want me to try and sing it?" he asked, cringing at the idea of trying to follow his songbird wife.

Sophie pushed a small finger up to his lips. "No daddy, don't sing that." Nick sighed. He was fully aware of his inability to carry a tune, but he thought maybe his kids would give him a break on that front. Surprising him, Sophie then said, "Sing Teddy Bear."

Nick raised his eyebrows. "The Elvis song?" He smiled, sure his dad would have gotten a kick out of that. He wracked his brain to remember the lyrics, and quietly sang the first couple of verses to Sophie. He was about to conquer a third, when Sophie leaned up to look at him.

"Daddy, who takes care of you when you are sick?" she asked.

Nick looked down at her, "Mommy does, just like I take care of her when she is sick."

She nodded in silent approval. "What about when you were little? Did your daddy sing Teddy Bear to you?"

For some reason, the answer caught in Nick's throat. "Nah, grandpa Walt wasn't a sing-to-you type of dad." He cleared his throat. Eager to change the subject, he opened his mouth to sing to her again.

"Daddy, what type of grandpa was Grandpa Walt?" she asked.

_Uh oh_, thought Nick. What did you say to a soon-to-be 8-year-old about the departed Walt Miller? _Well sweetie, he gambled a lot, drank a lot and vanished on us for weeks at a time. He was actually a pretty good con man, but you could not trust him as far as you could throw him, and I was a mess because of it until your mommy came along. ..._ _Nope, that won't work. _

"Well," he said slowly. "Grandpa Walt traveled a lot. He was a … different type of dad."

Sophie scrunched up her small forehead. "So when was he there with you?" she asked.

_Yowza, she's observant, _thought Nick, considering the question. _When he needed money, but I still loved seeing him_ _when he deemed to come around_. "Probably not enough, sweetie." He brushed back his daughter's hair softly with his fingers. "But he would have loved you. You know, he called your mother Blue Eyes?"

Sophie gave him a weak smile. "I have blue eyes, too." He nodded, pretty sure if anyone could have brought Walt Miller to his knees, it would have been the sweet face of his granddaughter. She gave Nick a small hug. "I'm glad you do not travel, daddy."

_I don't because it killed me when he did_, thought Nick. He wondered how many parents tried to avoid the mistakes they figured their moms and dads made. He laughed silently. _And then just end up making a bunch of new ones instead_.

"You know, Soph, every parent is different," said Nick, not even sure why he was talking out loud. "There are some dads who don't work until 1 a.m. four nights in a row like I did."

Sophie lay her head back down on her father's chest. "You are the best daddy," she said with a certainty that made Nick's heart clench. "And when I am older, I will work in your bar with you."

_Over my dead body, _thought Nick. He glanced at Sophie. "Hey, sweetie. If you are feeling better, want to head to bed?"

She shook her head furiously. Nick sighed. "How about we get up off this floor and go and watch a video? Max and Ruby?" Sophie pondered for a moment before slowly nodding her consent.

They made their way to the living room and Nick started the DVD. He curled up with Sophie on the couch, tossing one of Jess' crocheted afghans over them both. They watched Max bug his big sister Ruby for about five minutes before Nick heard the shuffle of feet. "Hey little man," he said to a sleepy Walt making his way into the living room. "What are you doing up?"

"Why is everyone awake?" Walt asked, blinking at the TV. "I want to watch, too."

Nick lifted the blanket, and Walt scooted on the couch.

Jess groggily glanced at the clock, which read just before 4 a.m. She turned to see Nick had not come to bed. Snapping awake with worry, she headed for the bathroom.

She stopped in the living room, met with the sight of Nick Miller on the couch with both of his children snuggled up against him – all three fast asleep. She smiled and turned off the TV. Gently easing Walt off of Nick, Jess tucked him into bed. She did the same for Sophie, making sure she had a small garbage can next to her bed, just in case.

Returning to the couch, she eased next to Nick, gently nudging him. "Come on daddy, time to sleep," she said. He snorted awake. "Where are the kids?" he mumbled.

"In bed, where you should be," she said, and led him back to the bedroom. Jess helped Nick take off his shoes, but let him crawl into bed wearing the shirt and pants he had on. Jess curled up next to him and closed her eyes.

"Hey, Jess," he whispered. "I'm not my dad, and Sophie will never work in a bar."

Jess yawned. "Good to know, sweetie."

Nick pulled her closer so his chest cradled her back. "Just so you know, Mrs. Miller, I would ravage you if I was not so exhausted," he said.

She smiled and lightly kissed his hand before she wrapped it around her waist. "Just so you know, Mr. Miller, I would ravage you if I did not have the clear image of my daughter's bathroom pyrotechnics burned into my brain."

Nick laughed quietly as his leg slid over hers. "Good to know," he said, closing his eyes. After a second, he whispered. "Hey, Jess. How long until the kids move out?"

Jess gave a choked laugh. "I'd say about 13 years, buddy," she said.

"Oh, God," Nick groaned. "We'd better get some sleep, then."

Turning her head slightly toward Nick, Jess asked quietly, "Do you think she'll be all right? I never can sleep well when either one of them is sick."

Nick planted a soft, quick kiss on Jess' head. "She'll be fine. You want me to sing you to sleep? I have the theme song of Max and Ruby in my head."

Jess lay back on the pillow with a little laugh. "That's okay."

Nick felt the tension still holding her as she lay against him. From nowhere, he found himself humming quietly and the melody of Teddy Bear drifted from his lips. He gently stroked her hair until he felt her relax and heard her breathing ease into sleep. "Goodnight, Blue Eyes," he whispered, and fell asleep beside his wife.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 - Whipped cream attacks  
**

Balloons and pink streamers covered the postage stamp that constituted the Miller family backyard. Little kids ran screaming from one activity to the next.

A huge bouncy house dominated one corner, where Schmidt stood guard, timing all occupants and demanding they evacuate for regular sprays of disinfectant. Jordan took the hand of a hesitant Walt and helped him into the house. Sophie and Jude led a small throng of girls in another corner where a makeshift stage held a puppet-making station, complete with a curtain for mini-shows. Currently, the girls were giggling over a performance by two evil, puppet step-sisters which sounded amazingly like Coach and Winston. Jess sat with Cece offering mini-manicures to all interested party-goers under a huge banner that read "Happy 8th Birthday, Sophie."

Jess smiled and took in the scene of her husband, manning the small ice cream bar next to the house. "What? Two cherries? You sure you can handle that, Freddy?" he asked. The thin boy nodded his head vigorously. "Okaaaaay," Nick sighed, shaking his head. "But let me call you a ride later. I don't want you driving." Freddy gave him an odd look, but Nick just winked. Jess laughed.

"Mrs. Miller, can I have little flowers on my nails like Ella?" asked the girl in front of Jess.

"Of course!" Jess answered, pulling out the white nail polish, so she could paint small daisies on the child's nails. _Daisies_, thought Jess. _Somehow I still managed to get daisies into a birthday._ She glanced up at Nick, and bit back a smile.

It was years ago that Jess pulled a bouquet of daisies from her oversized bag as she and Nick sat in a coffee shop. "Tah dah!" she declared.

Nick stared at the flowers like they came from another planet. "Why are you giving me flowers, Jess?" he asked with his gaze never wavering from the floral collection in front of him.

"It's for the birthday boy! Just like your double-whipped cream, caramel frappuccino," she said, smiling.

He sighed. "I told you, Jess. My birthday is not a big deal. I don't even like birthdays."

Jess could feel her eyes bugging in horror. "How can you NOT like birthdays, Miller?" she practically shouted at him, before she added in a robot voice. "You say the words, but it does not compute." She smiled, but he merely slumped in his chair. "Ugh, Miller! It is your BIRTHDAY! Celebrate!"

Nick waved his hands wildly at Jess. "Shhhhhh!" He looked around quickly and then glared at her. "I just do _not_ like birthdays, Jess," he hissed.

Jess sighed dramatically. "But it is a reason for _joy_, Nick! You can go up to complete strangers one day a year, and they are honestly happy to send you joy. Complete strangers, Nick!" She leaned over to a nearby table. "It's his birthday!" she said, pointing at him.

Smiles captured the couple at the table. "Well, happy birthday!" said an older gentleman. Nick's eyes bulged and he gave his best fake smile – the one that Jess thought made him look like a nervous serial killer. He offered a weak thumbs up.

Leaning forward he snapped in a low voice. "_That_ is what I hate, Jess. The idea that everyone feels like they have to comment on my life." The slightly deranged smile returned as he realized the couple was still watching. Out of a corner of his mouth, Nick mumbled, "Make them stop, Jess."

She scooted her chair closer to Nick, blocking the other table's view. "You know, Miller, maybe you have just not had a fun birthday. You are going to love today. I have it all planned out."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "I thought the flowers and this whipped-cream dessert thingy were my presents from you," he said, pointing to the untouched drink that Jess had slapped in front of him moments ago.

Jess laughed. "Oh no, extra-whipped cream coffee treats are just the beginning," she said, clapping her hands in excitement. "I stayed up last night making a special peanut butter pie for you that we will enjoy at a picnic on this beautiful, sunny day. Then I thought we could go for a stroll on the beach, or go to a museum and just bum around. I want you to _enjoy_ today, Nick."

Pulling in his bottom lip, Nick looked at Jess. "Wow, a peanut butter pie?" he asked quietly. "That must have taken you a long time to make. You didn't have to go to so much trouble, Jess."

She gave him a playful slap on the arm. "You are so worth it, Nick! And you will love today. There will be birds singing and there might be a concert in the park today, and …" in the middle of her speech, Jess glanced down to see Nick pulling his thumb over his finger repeatedly. She knew that action. It was the same thing he did at his father's funeral. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Nick looked down and gave a small sigh, followed by a quick nod, as if settling on something. "Whatever you want, Jess," he said, the corner of his mouth kicking up as he held her gaze. "Whatever makes you happy."

Jess stared at her boyfriend. _Whatever makes_ _ME happy? Is that what he thinks? He needs to ENDURE his birthday for me? _she thought. Jess opened her mouth to argue with him and convince him that birthdays are special – especially his. _How can he not want to celebrate the day he was born? _

Looking down at the daisies, Jess realized she had always done her best to make her boyfriends' birthdays as special as she could. She always baked, and planned events, and done things to make them feel important. Moving her gaze back to Nick, Jess realized he was not just her boyfriend, but one of her best friends. After living as Nick's roommate for years, she had a pretty clear insight into the mind of Miller. For a moment, she re-pictured the day she had planned through his eyes.

… a caramel frappucino … _Miller translation: O_verpriced substance that should black and hot

… we will enjoy a picnic … _Miller translation:_ Ants on food and sitting on the hard ground

… stroll on the beach … _Miller translation: _ Sand in places I don't even want to imagine

… go to a museum … _Miller translation:_ Pictures of dead people by other dead people

Jess closed her mouth for a moment, then asked, "Why do you hate birthdays, Nick?"

He shrugged, his lips curving into a slight frown. "I don't know, Jess." Nick ran his hands through his hair and sighed. "I just hate another reminder that I am not doing all the things I thought I would be doing in life, okay?"

Crossing her arms slowly, Jess leveled a look at Nick. "Okay."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "Okay?"

Now she shrugged. Grabbing his frozen coffee drink, she tossed it into a nearby garbage can. "Okay." She looked at her watch. "I think there is a Bears game on at 1 p.m. today. What do you say we go sit at a sports bar and listen to several hours of commentary on why certain players suck or do not suck before it starts?"

Nick raised his hands in front of him as she snatched the drink. He stared at her dumfounded. "Um, Jess? What about the day you had planned?"

Jess shook her head, then blew a stand of hair from her face with a definitive puff of air. "Forget it. This is going to be a Nick Miller birthday, not a Jessica Day birthday." His eyes narrowed in question, but she pointed a finger at his chest. "Of course, you _must _realize that you can never, _ever_ make me unhappy about your birthday, Nicholas. I, for one, am ecstatic you are alive, and plan to celebrate the day of your birth - even if it is just in my head. _Got it_?"

Nick's confused expression cracked into a smile. "Okay, sergeant," he said with a quiet laugh.

She nodded. "I'll call the guys and tell them to meet us at the sports bar, the one with the giant TVs where that guy Rick practically lives," she said and reached for her phone.

"Who is Rick?" Nick asked.

"The guy who used to throw peanut shells at us," Jess said, dialing Schmidt's number. "I talked with him the last time we were there."

"The Shell Shocker guy is named Rick?" Nick asked, bewildered. "Are you nuts, Jess? Why are you talking to a crazy guy?"

Jess stuck out her tongue. "Because I am dating one," she said. "Hey Schmidt, change of plans …"

Nick smiled at his girlfriend and looked down at her coffee drink. Dipping one finger into her dollop of whipped cream, he signaled to her. Jess turned and he tapped her nose with the white fluff. A look of shock crossed her features before she smiled. Not pausing in her conversation with Schmidt, she popped the domed cap from her drink.

Laughing, Nick shook his head. "Birthday pass," he said as she brought the drink dangerously close to him. "Birthday pass!" he yelped.

"Happy birthday!" shouted someone from across the room. Nick rolled his eyes and shot two thumbs up in the person's general direction. Jess laughed.

Now Jess watched as Nick swirled whipped cream onto his latest ice cream masterpiece. He looked up and winked at his wife.

Even after accepting Nick's aversion to birthdays, Jess quickly staked a claim on the birthdays of their children. At first, she feared Nick would balk at her theme parties, but it seemed he was more than willing to be at the party, as long as she left him out of the planning.

Of course, Nick had drawn the line at her Peter Pan-themed party for Walt with the curt comment, "No tights, Jess. Ever." She opted instead for a giant, bungee trampoline Schmidt happily offered to her, calling it the "Schmidt Splash" that every party needed. After that, Schmidt proceeded to always bring in some over-the-top item, like today's bouncy house, that he would then spend the entire party fussing over.

Throughout the years, some parties worked better than others, Jess admitted to herself. The Wicked theme last year had been a hit with parents and kids – and Winston STILL talked about it. Though the Power Rangers party where Jess brought in a martial arts instructor she met at the community college was a different story. For several harried days, Walt's elementary school playground apparently turned into a bad kung fu movie. She still received looks from parents for THAT one. Her favorite was still the Wizard of Oz party, when she convinced Nick to dress as the Lion, Winston as the Scarecrow and Schmidt as the Tin Man to her Dorothy. That was the first year Coach came. Though he begged to play the Wizard, Jess sold him on the idea a Flying Monkey would be cooler.

Through it all, Nick had laughed and lumped it, telling Jess the abject humiliation was worth it when his kids smiled.

Today's theme was "Princess in Training." Jess watched the girls playing at the dress-up station before they made their way to order a magical potion – also known as an ice cream shake – from Nick. She glanced over to the puppet station, where the kids could put together puppets from different fairy tales and act them out.

"Ruh oh," Jess muttered to Cece. Following her friend's gaze, they both watched Coach and Winston, who had abandoned the puppet stage, and were now in a full-fledged battle with their wicked step-sister puppets wacking at one another.

"Your sister does NOT have the prettiest hair," yelled Coach. "Mine is the best!"

Winston's puppet made a quick blow with a fairy godmother's magic wand. "Oh, you SO wish, you scraggly-yarn-head!" The girls giggled around them.

Jordan and Walt wandered over from the bouncy house. "Put the doll down, dad, before someone gets hurt!" called Jordan. With another good _swack_ from Winston's puppet, Coach's evil step-sister flew off his hand and bonked Jude in the head. Walt's eyes narrowed. He walked slowly to Coach, and punched him in the leg.

"Okaaaay, fun's over, men!" Nick shouted as he swung over the bar and headed to pick up Walt. "Not cool, guys," he muttered to Winston and Coach, who rubbed his battered leg. The two had the decency to look ashamed, but Jess noticed Winston still absently brushed his puppet's hair with his hand.

"So when do _our_ friends turn eight?" Cece asked with a roll of her eyes. Jess watched as Nick took Walt to the ice cream bar. He handed Walt the caramel syrup bottle and pointed to a bowl of ice cream. Walt sighed, and squeezed.

"Man the station, Cece," said Jess. She walked over to Nick and Walt.

"I know you want to protect her, Walt, but you gotta choose your battles, kid," Nick was saying. Jess smiled at Nick, curling her arm around his waist.

"Everything okay?" she asked, laying her free hand on the bar and easing it closer to a can of whipped cream.

Nick gave a pointed look to Walt, who nodded sadly at his mother.

Jess slipped the can into her hand. "You know Walt, sometimes it _is_ best to pick your battles, or at least remember the old ones," she said. Walt gave her a curious look as Jess pulled out the can and sprayed Nick on the nose with one fizzled dollop.

"Jess! What was that for?" he yelped with a shocked laugh.

She raised her eyebrows. "I told you I like extra whipped cream on birthdays," she said with a smile. He laughed, and pulled her in for a kiss. Jess wrapped her arms around her husband and kissed him back, whipped cream and all.

**Been dying to somehow use MayaLala's idea of the Wizard of Oz in New Girl mode! Love your ideas, woman!  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay roomfriends, I need your ideas – anything you want to see Nick and Jess handle as parents? I'd like to leave the kids little for now, if I can. Leave it as a review or shoot me a PM, and I'll try to tackle it for ya. **

**Chapter 15 – Pillow Time**

Nick propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at his wife. "Well, that was fun," he said as she giggled.

Jess rolled herself onto her side, sliding her arm under the pillow beneath her head. "I can't believe you have not come up with another line after all these years," she chided him, but a smile danced on her lips. He brushed his fingers along her neck, and slowly down to where the sheet ran across her chest.

"It's a good line," he answered, letting his fingers glide gently across the top of the sheet.

She raised her eyebrows. "And I see you are still an upper boob man as well," she said. Nick winked and leaned in for a slow kiss, gently caressing her lips. When he pulled back, her forehead creased with worry. "Did I wake you up too early? What time did you come to bed last night?"

Laughing, he said, "Jess, for the record, I do not mind that kind of a wake-up call – ever." He eased onto his back. "What time is it?"

She leaned over him to glance at the clock. "It's 6:30," she said, resting her arms on his chest and placing her chin on her fingers. "Did you get any sleep?"

Nick looked up at her and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm fine, Jess. I have tonight off." At her pointed look, he sighed. "I got in around 11, but you were already asleep." He stared for a moment until he noticed the blush on her cheeks. "You are so beautiful," he sighed.

Jess gave him a playful slap. "Stop, Miller. You already got me into bed, you don't have to sweet-talk me now," she said, and his lips drifted into a goofy smile before he suddenly feigned a look of innocence.

"Me?" Nick asked. "I believe I am the seduced party, here, Mrs. Miller. I was all comfortable and asleep, when a wild woman attacked me."

"You poor, poor man," she eased her arms around him. "I'll have to make sure you never get attacked by that evil woman again." She leaned down and kissed his shoulder before giving it a small nip with her teeth.

"Ow! Hey!" he yelped, grabbing Jess and pulling her across him. "Actually, I was kinda hoping she'd be in the mood to be evil again," he murmured softly, leaning up for a kiss.

"Momma?" Sophie called with a quick rapping knock at the door.

Jess and Nick froze. "Did you lock the door?" she whispered, though her question was quickly answered by the unsuccessful jiggling of the doorknob. They both breathed a silent sigh of relief. "What is it, sweetie?" Jess called.

"Why is the door locked?" Sophie asked as the knob jiggled again.

Giving Jess a panicked shrug, Nick called, "We're talking about…ah…Christmas presents!" he yelled. "And didn't want you to hear!" Jess tossed Nick an incredulous look and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh. Okay," said Sophie with uncertainty. "Well Walt is bleeding, and…."

"WHAT?!" Jess and Nick yelled. Springing out of bed simultaneously, they somehow managed to avoid crashing into one another. Jess threw on her moon-covered shirt with matching pajama pants and whipped the door open just as Nick finished yanking on his boxers. "What happened? Where's Walt?" Jess demanded of a slightly stunned Sophie.

"He's in the bathroom," she said, pointing toward their hallway.

Nick and Jess raced to the kids' bathroom to see Walt, sitting on the counter, staring into the mirror. "Look, momma!" he yelled, and thrust a small hand at her. Jess looked down to see a slightly bloody tooth in his palm.

"Oh Walt! You lost a tooth!" Jess cried, delight in her voice. She reached into the bathroom cabinet and pulled out a washcloth.

"Way to go, little man," said Nick, offering his son a fist bump. "Guess I'll have to call you big man now!" Walt offered him a gap-toothed grin. "You better remember to stick that under your pillow tonight."

Jess wetted the washcloth and lightly pushed it onto the space in Walt's beaming smile. He flinched for a second. "Boes bis bean I bet a bollar?" he asked over the faded blue washcloth.

"What?" Nick asked with a halted laugh.

Walt pushed his mother's hand away. "A dollar," he said. "Angelo Carter from preschool got a dollar when he lost his tooth."

Nick's eyes bulged. "A DOLLAR? For a tooth? What, did it come from the Land of Tooth Fairy Millionaires?"

Walt shrugged. "I don't know," he answered simply.

Sophie leaned in to peek at her brother's mouth. "He's right, daddy," she said. "A lot of kids in my class get a dollar." She poked at Walt's tooth in his hand. "But our tooth fairy is different, Walt. We get a BIG coin with a handsome man on it."

Walt made a gagging noise. "_Handsome man?_ Oh brother!" he sighed.

Jess leaned over to Nick. "They get half dollars," she whispered. "The other kids have not seen a lot of them, so they are interesting, and we save 50 cents."

Nick pursed his lips and nodded in approval. "A good use of the 35th president," he said. Jess raised an eyebrow in question. Nick shrugged. "I minored in American history in college, Jess."

Jess shot him a baffled look. "You what?" she asked. "How could I be married to you for 11 years and NOT know you minored in American history?"

He shrugged. "I am an enigma, my dear wife." Nick winked at her and added, "Really, Jess, how do you think I knew about the Hawley-Smoot Tariff when we played True American?"

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Everyone knows about the Hawley-Smoot Tariff, Nick." She rinsed out the washcloth, and looked into Walt's mouth. "That looks like it's stopped bleeding, sweetie. I'll get a baggie for your tooth."

Nick crossed his arms. "Everyone, Jess? Everyone?" He leaned against the bathroom door. "So Jess, what _is _the Hawley-Smoot Tariff?"

Spreading out the washcloth, she said, "an attempt by President Herbert Hoover to help American businesses during the Great Depression. But the tariff was too high, and it sank the country deeper into economic hardships."

Nick collapsed against the door. "I should know better than to tangle with a teacher," he sighed. "And a know-it-all one at that," he added under his breath.

"I heard that, daddy," Sophie said. Jess whirled around and tilted her head at Nick. He quickly raised his hands in surrender. "Walt, help!" he called. "The women are ganging up on me."

"Can't daddy," Walt said, lifting his arms for his mother to pick him up. "I'm wounded." He pointed to his tooth as Jess eased him off the counter. Looking down at her, Walt's face scrunched in confusion. "Momma, I thought you said we could not wear our shirts inside out."

Jess pulled her lips together as her gaze drifted to her hastily assembled outfit. A blush crept up her cheeks. "Well…I…." she began.

Nick slapped a hand gently on his son's shoulder. "Your mom was so worried about you bleeding, big guy, that her shirt just popped inside out," he said. Jess leveled him a look as Nick fought back a laugh.

"Uh, okay," Walt said as Jess put him down. "Momma, can I go show Ricky Pierson down the street my tooth? He'll think the blood is cooool!"

Jess sighed. "Okay, after you get dressed and have breakfast, I'll walk you over there," she said and watched the kids sprint into their rooms. She moved to leave the bathroom, but Nick caged her, pushing his arms on either side of the door.

"So, Mrs. Miller, how long do you think it will take the kids to get ready?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed.

"Not long enough for what you have in mind," she said, giving him a light kiss on the nose.

Nick sighed. He leaned his head into the hallway. "Early bedtime tonight everybody! We don't want to scare away the tooth fairy." As the kids groaned, he leaned in and murmured to Jess, "Though I can think of a few things we can do that might frighten her away."

Jess drawled in a Mae West voice, "Why, Mr. Miller, why don't you come up and see me tonight?" She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know, Nick, I think a man who knows history is sexy. Tell me the name of the tariff again," she said.

"Hawley-Smoo…" Jess leaned in to kiss the "O" shape of his lips, and he laughed lightly against her mouth. "I love history," he whispered, and pulled his wife into his arms once again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – Is This a Test?**

Nick pulled a helmet off one of the tiny Lego men in front of him. "I am Remy, the evil handyman, and I will lure your puny soldiers to their doom!" he called out, and marched the newly dubbed Remy to a wall of Legos.

"You will never get in!" Walt declared, and used a toy catapult to lob a cotton ball toward the figure. It landed about a foot from Nick and Remy, and Walt's face scrunched in chagrin.

Nick stared at the cotton ball for a moment. "AAAAARGH!" he yelled. "A shockwave bomb!" He shook the figure mercilessly before tossing him into the air. "I've been blasted away!" Walt's frown vanished and he laughed.

"Medic!" Nick called. A Barbie doll rode up on a plastic horse, which whinnied as the doll slid down to look at Remy.

With the help of Sophie, Barbie shook her head. "It doesn't look good. We'll have to get him to the hospital with the others." She slid the doll's unbending arms under Remy and carried him to a small building with no roof, constructed of multiple primary-colored Legos. Barbie dumped Remy into the "hospital" on top of a pile of other Lego men.

"Geesh," Nick groaned, as he watched Remy slip off the top of the pile. "What do these guys gotta do to get quality medical care?"

Sophie sighed and gave her father a patient look. "They will feel better once I make them cupcakes, daddy," she said.

Nick nodded. "Ah, I'm sure they will. Hey guys, why don't we …."

"Walter Nicholas Miller!" Jess' voice – in full mom mode – echoed from her sewing room.

Nick, Sophie and Walt flinched in unison, their heads snapping up from the Lego empire they constructed in the living room.

"What did you do, buddy?" Nick whispered. Walt shrugged and threw his hands up in innocence. Nick narrowed his eyes at his son. "Did you go into your mom's sewing room?" Walt bit his lip with uncertainty.

Nick placed his hand gently on his son's shoulder. "You better go see what your mom wants," he said, but Walt shook his head quickly. Nick sighed. "It's better to know what you did than wonder about it. You always imagine worse than what it really is." Walt looked down, the sense of foreboding clear in his face. "Come on, Walt, I'll go with ya."

Walt nodded slowly, and together they trudged toward the sewing room like two men headed to the gallows. Sophie tip toed along behind them, holding her Barbie. Nick looked back. "It's okay, Sophie, you can stay here," he said.

Wide-eyed, Sophie looked down at her Barbie. "He may need a medic," she whispered. Nick raised his eyebrows, then tilted his head in agreement. He glanced at his son and nodded to him to enter the room.

Inside, they were met with the scene of an angry, flashy-eyed Jess, standing amid a sea of yarn. Everywhere across the floor of the sewing room, yarn flowed in colorful mounds, unspooled from Jess' cabinet where neat and organized reams sat only a day ago.

Nick surveyed the damage. "Ya couldn't recall this one, bub?" he said in a low voice to Walt, whose eyes grew into saucers of brown.

Sophie sighed. "Momma has one rule, Walt," she whispered. "Don't. Touch. The. Yarn."

"Well?!" Jess demanded. Standing with her hands on her hips, she stared down at her son. "Did you, or did you NOT do all this, Walter?"

Walt cringed at the use of his full name. He looked at the floor, bit his lip and shrugged.

Jess's foot started to tap to an angry beat. "Are you telling me that allllll of this yarn just _magically_ jumped off the cabinet, landed on the middle of the floor and engulfed THESE?" she thrust out her hand. Nick looked over to see three of Walt's favorite Lego men, one with a piece of yarn still stuck in his little, plastic hair.

Now it was Nick who cringed. _Leaving evidence at the scene of the crime. Have I taught my son nothing? _he thought. In his head, Nick began a silent mantra: _Say you're sorry. Say you're sorry. Say you're sorry. Come on kid, use those big, brown eyes. _

"What do you have to say for yourself, Walter?" Jess demanded, her voice dropping into an unnatural calm. _Don't fall for it!_ Nick wanted to yell. _She's not calm at all!_

Walt looked at his mom for a moment, then at Nick. "Is this a test?" he asked.

The words slammed into Nick, and his eyes shot to Jess. _This is bad_, he thought. _Please, Jess, do not remember when I used that phrase._ But her eyes had already locked onto his. Now Nick felt the bubble of unwanted scrutiny rise to him. _Uh oh. _

It was not one of his finest moments when Nick uttered the phrase "Is this a test?" to her years before – a little more than six years ago, actually. Jess had already been in what Nick would refer to as "a mood" for a week or so. Prone to snap at a moment's notice, she even lost patience with their 1-year-old daughter Sophie.

_Or 18-month old_, he had thought with a mental roll of his eyes. That had been the latest argument between them. "Why do we have to go by months, Jess?" he'd scoffed at her latest update from the pediatrician. "She's not cheese that is going to go bad. She's a _year_ old. Then she will be two _years_ old. Can't you tell Dr. Howard to just adjust for human time?" he laughed, but Jess only answered with a scowl.

"It's _Dr. Hubbard_, Nick. Not Howard, _Hubbard_, and if you went with me to her check-ups, maybe you would know that," Jess said, doing her best to hide her exasperation, but betrayed by the sharp clacking of her crochet needles. Sophie sat beside her on the couch, pulling apart a small ball of yarn.

Nick knew that voice – the low tone that feigned a serenity she did not feel. He sighed wearily, knowing he should just back off, but Jess had been giving him that tone for a while now, and it was getting old. "Ooookay, then tell Dr. _Hubbard_ that. Or – better yet – knit her an afghan with that on it. What is that, your twelfth blanket this week? We live in LOS ANGELES, Jessica."

Jess gripped the needles tightly in her hands, then shot off the couch. "I'm going to the bathroom. See if you can manage to remember your _daughter's_ name while I am gone!" She whipped past him toward the hallway and he grabbed her arm.

"What is UP with you Jess? You have been acting weird all week." He narrowed his eyes. "Is it a girl thing? Menzies?" His face cringed a bit as he uttered the word.

Jess rolled her eyes and leaned in close. "Nick, do you know what it is like for a woman to be asked if she is PMS? Even if she IS PMS? It's like going up to a man with no arms, poking him repeatedly in the shoulder and declaring, "'Your shoe is untied! Your shoe is untied! Your shoe is untied!' There is nothing I can do…" Jess froze. "What is today?" she asked quietly.

Nick threw up is arms in defeat. "It's the 8th, Jess. How many days can we expect our visit to Crazy Time to last?"

Her eyes widened like giant, blue saucers. "Watch Sophie," she mumbled, and headed for the bathroom.

Nick stormed after her. "I can watch my own, damn daughter without being told to do it, Jess!" He watched the bathroom door slide closed as he approached. "My daughter, SOPHIA JOAN, by the way!" he shouted through the door. Nick turned to look at said daughter, and his stomach plummeted. Little Sophie was standing precariously on the couch, throwing her yarn off the side, laughing, when she began to step off the edge of the couch.

For a moment, he willed every part of his being to stop time. Seeing her tiny foot slip, Nick tried to launch himself into the living room, but the Earth decided then that everything should move in slow motion. Each millisecond became a snapshot in his brain: Her pink sock sliding on the warm, brown cushion of the couch. The smile across her angelic face transforming into a surreal mask of shock. Her arms flying upward as she flailed toward the grainy wood of the coffee table.

Just as Nick was about to reach her, Sophie landed with a stomach-churning _whap! _on the floor, her arm catching the edge of the table.

"Oh no, baby. Are you all right?" Nick cried, and knelt next to Sophie. She sat for a moment, her mouth pulled down into the turtle-face-to-end-all-turtle faces. Nick braced himself. He knew this breath of silence – it was the last yawning gasp of calm before the flood broke. Sophie pulled in a wavering gasp as realization crashed over her, and she let out an ear-shattering cry. "Oh no, no, no. Oh no, Sophie," Nick pulled her gently into his arms. "Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?"

His little girl screamed in a way that cut right into Nick, right through his soul. "Shhh, baby Sophie. It will be okay. Can you tell daddy what hurts?"

Jess raced into the living room and knelt beside them. "What happened?" she demanded, as she eased Sophie from Nick's grasp.

"She…she…fell...hit the table," he stammered. "I wasn't fast enough. Oh God, Jess. I'm so sorry," he said.

Running her hands over Sophie's face and head, Jess gasped when she looked down at her arm. "Nick, her wrist," Jess called over her daughter's cries. Nick gazed down to see her usual doll-sized wrist was now swelling. The nausea hit him full force. "Oh God," he whispered.

Jess gingerly brushed her finger's against Sophie's wrist. A sharp scream erupted from her daughter's lips. Jess' eyes snapped to Nick and matched the panic he knew his held. "We have to get her to the ER, now!" she yelled. Turning, Jess scooped up the diaper bag she always kept by the door, grabbed her keys and raced out the door. Nick quickly shoved a tear angrily from his eyes, and followed.

Nick sat stoically, trying to fill out the paperwork as Sophie whimpered in her mother's arms. He gazed at the questions: Insurer's social security. _That would be Jess, and I don't know_, he thought. Patient's social security: _ I didn't want her to have a damn social security card at the age of 1, so again, NO idea. _Insurer's address: _Pretty sure Jess is going to leave me after all if this, so do I just cross it out and put in "Hopeful address"? _he wondered. Nick sighed. "I can't concentrate on this, Jess. You fill it out, and I'll take Sophie."

Jess' brow furrowed at the idea of passing off the softly weeping child. Nick could see it in her eyes. _She doesn't trust me. She looks like a momma bear and I'm that dumb kid who wants to play with her cub._ Gently, he eased Sophie from Jess, who frowned, but took the clipboard from him.

After what felt like an eternity, an assistant led them back to a waiting room. The doctor attending Sophie looked about 12 years old to Nick. Part of him wanted to growl at everything the guy said, but Jess barely let him talk. So Nick simply sat there, not letting go of his daughter as the doctor examined her.

"I think it's just sprained, but let's get an X-Ray just to be sure," said Dr. Too-Young-To-Be-Taking-Care-of-My-Daughter, and he left to get the paperwork going on the X-Ray.

Jess' face paled. She turned to Nick. "Nick, I…I don't think I can go in there with you," she said weakly.

Nick's heart clenched. _She's too mad to be near me when she sees it's broken, _he thought. _She blames me. Hell, I blame me._ Nick nodded, but felt himself slipping into that old, dark place.

"Sure," he said simply. "I'll take her. I mean, this is a test, right? To see if I can be with her without her getting hurt?" Jess' expression quickly fell into one of shock. "I mean, you think this is my fault, right?"

"Nick…no…I just…" Jess stumbled on the words as she stroked Sophie's hair.

Nick turned both himself and Sophie away from Jess as he glared at her. "Admit it. You still think of me as a child, Jess," he hissed, furious the hurt in his voice was so transparent. "So tell me, is this a test?"

An older nurse pulled back the curtain back. Decked out in scrubs that were covered in Curious George, she leaned over Sophie and gave her a gentle smile. "Hello, Sophia," she said, softly. "You can come with me, and we'll see if that is a big ouchie, or a little ouchie." Nick followed the nurse, refusing to look back at his wife.

It turned out her wrist was not broken. The relief flooded him when the black and white image of his daughter's arm flickered to light. _Never would have forgiven myself_, he thought. _I finally get what that means. _Nick tried to balance a little ice pack on Sophie's wrist as they headed back toward the waiting room.

Greeted with Jess' panicked expression, he could only sigh, "She's okay. It's just sprained." He tried not to concentrate on the streaks of mascara under her eyes as Jess lifted Sophie to her chest.

"My poor darling," she cooed, and nuzzled Sophie to her.

Nick looked down at he floor. "Let's go," he mumbled, and picked up Sophie's diaper bag.

The ride home was quiet, except for the Disney CD playing that usually made Nick's teeth hurt. Today he didn't care. Jess sat in the back with Sophie, making faces that caused peals of giggles to float from her daughter as the children's pain medicine kicked in. By the time they reached home, Sophie was asleep.

As Jess cradled Sophie in her arms, Nick felt the weight of the day descend upon him. Spent, and slightly humiliated, he followed his wife into Sophie's room. Gently, she eased Sophie into her crib. Nick bit his lip as he watched her slide the wooden side of the crib - the one he'd spent a day putting together - into place. "Jess," he whispered to her, but she shook her head. _It's too late_, he thought. _I've screwed up too big this time_.

Jess took his hand and led him out of the room. Instead of heading to the living room, however, she pulled him to the little bathroom off their bedroom. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Jess picked up a box that was sitting on the back of the toilet. Looking down, she smiled.

Walking over to Nick, she stopped in front of him. "That was not a test, Mr. Miller," Jess said, holding a small stick with two pink lines. "_This _is a test."

All the air rushed out of Nick's lungs. "You're…you're pregnant?" Jess nodded with a mischievous gleam in her eyes Nick knew he would never forget. Nick laughed out loud, then slapped his hand over his mouth, afraid to wake Sophie. He reached out, and pulled Jess into his arms. "I am an _idiot_,' he whispered.

"Hey," she said quietly. "That is the father of my children you are talking about." She winked, but then her smile faded. "You know I don't blame you for Sophie's wrist, right?" she asked, then glanced at the stick. "_This_, however, is all you, pal."

He laughed softly. "Well, not _all_ me," he said as he leaned his forehead against hers.

Now Nick stood with the same expression Walt wore – eyes wide and full of hope that the earth could swallow them up. _Of all the phrases, kid, you pull one from when I was a huge jackass,_ Nick mentally cringed.

Jess stared for a moment, then sucked in her lower lip. When Nick watched her shoulders shake slightly with contained laughter, relief washing over him. Jess coughed quickly, then snapped a stern gaze back to Walt, though Nick caught the amused twinkle in her eyes. "Tomorrow, mister, you will be in here bright and early with me, and roll up each and EVERY one of these balls of yarn. Got that?"

Walt nodded vigorously.

Jess sighed. "Now, go clean up your Legos with your sister and get ready for bed." Seeing his chance to flee, Walt raced out of the room, with Sophie only a breath behind. Jess shook her head. "What is it with Miller men getting to act like dolts and getting away with it?" she laughed.

Nick shrugged and made his way carefully over the mounds of yarn to Jess. "What can I say? We are irresistible," he said with a halted laugh. He wrapped his arms around Jess.

Jess gave Nick a quick kiss. "Perhaps you just married an idiot," she said, looking at the unending task of re-spooling yarn with Walt's "help" tomorrow.

Nick pulled her to his chest. "Hey, that's the mother of my children you are talking about," he said, and lowered his mouth to hers.

**_I am loving all the suggestions! This one is for Happy . daze 25 for the ER suggestion! Patio 89 - I SO tried to fit Sam into this chapter as covering the ER, but it just kept messing with the dynamic. I'll try to get that fist-bumping guy in there somehow. Hmmmm...looks like people want to see a holiday chapter with families combining! I'll see what I can do, my roomfriends. _**


	17. Chapter 17

**_Whew! Had several requests for the FourDeers to take on a holiday, so this is for you guys. And my Great Aunt Ange used to make lasagna with random stuff in it, including a hard-boiled egg, so this one is for her as well!_**

**Chapter 17 – Get it in gear!**

The sounds of the football game echoed across the small living room as everyone stood stock still – staring at Winston. Perhaps it should seem odd that he swung salad tongs over his head as he yelled. Perhaps it should seem odd that Nick was standing on the couch, his arms lunged over Bob as both of their hands clung to a beer. Perhaps it should seem odd that Coach held Nick's brother Jamie in a headlock after yelling the names of Chinese take-out dishes. Perhaps it should seem odd that Bonnie and Schmidt stood amid a flurry of shredded Parmesan cheese and unblanched almonds.

But it was not odd. It was Thanksgiving at the Miller household.

"It won't be so bad, Nick," Jess assured him earlier that day. "We'll put on football, and you and my dad can yell at the referees and say how much you hate the Cowboys being called 'America's Team'."

Nick scowled. "How can ONE team freakin' be called America's Team? You wanna talk America, Jess? How about Chicago – the heartland of the nation. Deep dish pizza, Jess. That's American!"

Jess smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "Yes! Just like that." She lined up another folding chair in the living room and straightened her hand-made holiday chair cover. As she fluffed the ribbons that looped to make a colorful turkey tail on the back of the cover, the over timer dinged. "Oh! That will be the appetizers. Nick, can you get that?"

Growling under his breath about giant stadium screens, Nick marched into the kitchen. "I have no idea why you are even making food, Jess. Schmidt will be here any minute to mock anything we have and clear the way for his own weird stuff."

Jess shook her head. "He promised to let Bonnie do the cooking," she called to Nick, who let out a quick yelp before the tray of tiny quiches clattered onto the stove. "Use the potholder, Nick!"

His head popped back into the living room. "My ma has used a towel all her life, and has been just fine, thank you very much," he said, wrapping a towel around his slightly singed hand.

Retying a turkey-tail ribbon, Jess bit her lip as she watched it droop immediately. "Don't be silly, Nick. I gave her those kitten potholders last year, and she told me she uses them all the time." She sighed. "This will just have to be the sad turkey."

Nick eased up behind his wife and wrapped his hands around her waist. "The place looks great, Jess." He dropped a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks for letting the family invade for Thanksgiving."

Jess placed her hands over his, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "It's just your mom and Jamie," she said.

"And Winnie and Coach and Jordan and Schmidt and Jude and your dad," added Nick.

Jess shrugged. Cece had to run to San Francisco to oversee a photo shoot for her models, so Jess was happy to have Schmidt and Jude join them. Of course, that was before Nick's mom let them know that Deann had kicked Jamie out – again – and they decided to come to LA for Thanksgiving. Winston sighed dramatically when he found his girlfriend was going home to see her family, so he was in. Then came the phone call from her dad, letting her know he would be at the airport in two weeks ready for "Rick" to pick him up. By the time Coach hinted he and Jordan would be eating fast food for Thanksgiving, Jess decided just to throw a big, open-house buffet. Nick grunted to Jess to turn off her phone before one more person called to invite himself over.

Turning around in Nick's arms, Jess pushed her hands slowly along his chest until she slid them over his shoulders. "They are all family, Nick – our family," she said, easing up against him for a soft kiss. He smiled against her lips, before he added, "And thank God only a few of them are genetically linked to us, Jess." She giggled and Nick leaned in for another kiss.

"Daddy! When is Jordan getting here?" Walt ran into the living room. He pointed to the hallway. "I got all of my Godzillas to stand up on their back legs, and I want him to see it before they fall over."

Nick nodded. "Sounds impressive." He glanced back at Jess, and placed a quick kiss on what he considered to be her completely adorable nose. "I better go and see this feat of nature," he said, giving her a wink.

Jess smiled, then caught the chiming of the old tabletop clock her grandmother left her. "Oh wow, I better go run and get the ice for the cooler." Jess looked at Walt. "Did you and Sophie finish cleaning your rooms?" Walt bobbed his head up and down. "I even cleaned Russ with my toothbrush, mama." Jess' eyes widened. "Oookaaaay. So, ice and a new toothbrush for Walt." She looked at Nick. "I'll be back soon, hopefully before anyone gets here." Giving his hand one more squeeze, Jess hurried to grab her purse from the kitchen and raced out the door.

"Come on, daddy," Walt pulled at Nick's sleeve, making him realize he was staring at the path his wife had just walked, leaving him with a rather goofy smile on his face. He sighed. How lame was it to have a crush on his wife after more than a decade of marriage? Nick turned toward Walt's room, when the doorbell rang. He walked to the door, but Bonnie and Jamie barreled through before he could open it.

"Where is my boy?" Bonnie called, arms loaded down with dishes. Nick jogged over to take the covered food. With arms free, Bonnie squeezed Nick in a mighty bear hug. "How is my big boy?"

"A little squished, ma," Nick grunted as she released him. "Happy thanksgiving," he smiled at her. Jamie, carrying six or seven grocery bags, slammed a shoulder roughly into his brother, causing the dishes to rattle precariously in Nick's arms. "Where should we put this stuff, Nicky?" Jamie asked.

"Come on into the kitchen, ya idiot," Nick said, tossing his head toward the kitchen door. "Where is Schmidt?"

Bonnie smiled. "Oh, the sweet boy is getting the rest of the stuff."

Nick's eyes bulged. "The rest? Ma, you have enough food here to feed an army."

Bonnie grabbed his cheeks. "I gotta feed my growing grandchildren." She glanced around. "Where are my grandchildren?" As if sensing grandmother hugs were close at hand, Walt and Sophie ran into the living room and into Bonnie's arms. "There are my dumplings!" she cried.

Walt kissed her cheek. "Grandma, I don't want to be a dumpling. I want to be a donut. They are better."

Nick nodded in agreement and lugged the heavy dishes to the kitchen. Bonnie wandered in behind him with Walt and Sophie trailing. "Can we help in the kitchen today, grandma?" Sophie asked.

Bonnie leaned over and covered the two children in loud kisses. "Of course! I'll get everything ready for my big helpers. Now go get on some cooking clothes, missy." Sophie beamed and skipped back to her room. Bonnie began to unload some of the groceries. "Did Jess leave the oven on? I told her to have it ready for me." Nick cringed, remembering he had turned it off when the quiche pan burned him. He quickly threw the knob back up to 400 degrees.

"Should be just about ready, ma," Nick said. Bonnie pulled a large tray out of the stack. "Is that what I think it is? Your famous lasagna?" he asked, pulling back the tin foil. Bonnie slapped his hand away.

"You'll see when it's time," she replied, her eyes twinkling.

Schmidt struggled through the kitchen door, hauling several bags with him. Nick grabbed one as it was about to slip. Jude peeked in, gave a small wave to Nick and a smiling Walt, and headed for Sophie's room. "Man, thanks for letting Jamie and my mom stay with you," Nick muttered to Schmidt, whose eyes lowered.

"Nicholas, you should have warned me your brother sleeps in the nude," Schmidt said. He dumped the bags onto the counter as a shiver raced through him. "There are no words, Nick. No words to convey that horror."

Nick slapped him on the back. "I owe ya, man."

Schmidt shook once again before grabbing one of the bags. "Then perhaps you will allow me to make my famous seven-bean salad, and give us all a break as the queen of cholesterol devours the kitchen," he whispered, motioning to Bonnie, who was humming and buttering rolls for the oven.

Nick smiled. "I don't know, man. My mom gets a little protective in the kitchen."

Schmidt edged in and stood nose to nose with Nick. "Naked, Nicholas. Doing stretches."

Nick shivered. "Blah! Okay, okay!" He glanced at his mom and added in a low voice, "Just try not to let your crazy clash with her crazy, okay?"

Suddenly beaming, Schmidt grabbed a bowl. "You will LOVE this, Nick. I even found French garbanzo beans!"

Nodding, Nick shoed Schmidt away. "Yeah, yeah."

The front door opened, and Nick leaned out to see Coach and Jordan race in the room. "Hey Nick, thought I would get here early to see if you wanted to shoot hoops before the football game." Coach slapped his hand on a basketball.

Walt grabbed Jordan's hand to pull him past Jamie to the waiting Godzilla display. Jamie nodded at Coach. "So, I hear you are some kind of trainer. You box or do karate, or something?"

Coach stared at Jamie for a second. "Um, no. I'm not that kind of trainer."

The doorbell rang again, and Winston walked through the door with Bob. "Look who I found!" Bob yelled as he handed a bottle of wine to Nick. "It's…this guy!" he pointed to Winston, who smiled knowingly. Bob tried to ease into a chair and got caught in a limp turkey-tail ribbon. "What in the hell is this?

"I think it's a turkey," said Nick, looking at the label to see it was one of Jess' favorites. The twirly kind of favorite. Nick made a mental note to keep Jess away from the pink liquid while family was present. He didn't want a repeat of last Christmas at her mom's, when Jess decided a game of strip True American would be fun.

"That's one sad turkey," Bob muttered.

Winston walked past Bob and put his arm around Nick. "He still has nooo idea what my name is," Winston whispered. "So just call me Sharon and see if he goes for it." He smiled, then nodded to Coach. "Hey, man."

Jamie looked at Winston. "Hey, is he your trainer? I want him to teach me Kung Fu, but he won't."

Coach rolled his eyes. "I'm not that kind of trainer. I train…"

"Only the BEST, right Coach?" interrupted Winston, giving Coach an exaggerated wink. "I mean, you should show him some of your stuff." He walked over to Jamie. "Like the…the kung pow. Show Jamie that move, man."

Coach stared at Winston for a beat, then smiled. "Oh, suuuuure. The kung pow." Coach lined himself up and kicked randomly in the air, yelling "Kung POW!"

Jamie's eyes grew huge. "That is SO cool, man! You gotta show me!"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Maybe that's enough, _Sharon_," he said to Winston. "Bob, you want a glass of this?"

Bob cringed. "Ugh, no. I don't drink that fruffy stuff. I'll just take a beer." He glanced around the room. "Is it too much to ask where my daughter might be?"

"She's getting ice," Nick said as he walked toward the kitchen.

Bob nodded slowly. "Sooooo, you're letting my tiny daughter carry giant bags of ice? That's one way to build up her little, weak muscles, eh? Hope she doesn't break under all of that weight." Nick squeezed the bottle and counted to three. _Get home soon, Jess, _he silently pleaded. Nick entered to see Schmidt chopping wildly as Bonnie pounded pie crust with a bit too much vigor.

"It's a seven-bean salad, Mrs. Miller," Schmidt was saying with barely restrained exasperation. "That means all the beans need to be approximately the same size for optimum taste." Bonnie rolled her eyes at Nick.

"I have seven beans as well," she said. "Well, instead of beans, it's seven types of meat." She laughed and peeled the foil off the lasagna.

Schmidt's eyes widened. "I'm sorry. Is that a hard-boiled egg?" he said, peering into the dish.

Bonnie nodded, "It's good luck."

Schmidt bit his lip as a small gagging sound escaped. "I see," he whispered.

Nick grabbed a beer for Bob and popped the cap. "Everything okay in here?" he asked loudly, giving Schmidt a pointed stare. Bonnie grabbed his cheeks with flour-covered hands. "It's just fine, Nicky. Go watch some football," she said. "Now where did I put my Parmesan cheese?"

A loud crash rang from the living room. Nick hurried out to see Jordan and Walt chasing the girls with Godzilla toys. Jude and Sophie screamed with laughter and ran past Coach, who was showing Jamie and _Sharon_ a move apparently called the Lo Blow Mein. "Take the rampage outside!" Nick yelled, handing the beer to Bob.

Taking one look at the label, Bob huffed. "Heisler? Who drinks Heisler?" he asked, pointing the bottle at Nick. "You want a real beer, you should try Mountain Brew House in Oregon. Now that's beer."

Nick sighed. "I have Heisler, Bob," he said wearily.

Bob shrugged. "Well, if that's all you have. I guess I can drink it." He took a quick sip. "It's flat."

Grabbing the beer, Nick turned back to the kitchen. "I'll get you another one," he said stiffly.

Winston walked over, laughing. "I forgot your brother is a riot, Nick." He smiled, looked at Nick, and noticed his scowl. "What's wrong?"

Bob looked over. "Maybe you could get Sharon a non-flat beer as well, if it's not too much trouble."

Nick squeezed his eyes tight. "Sure thing, Bob." He stomped off to the kitchen with Winston following. Pushing open the door, he bumped into Schmidt, who appeared to be standing his ground near the oven.

"The almonds need to be _blanched_, Mrs. Miller. So I need to get them on the stove, now." He slid his pan of slender, perfectly sliced almonds toward her.

Bonnie's nostrils flared as she gripped the rolling pin covered in flour. Both Nick and Winston took a step back, seeing the signs for a Bonnie storm brewing. "I told you, _dear_. There is no room for your almonds. I need to get the stuffing going."

Schmidt sighed. "Is more bread really a necessity? I sense you have sucked all the carbs in the world in the vortex of the lasagna dish!"

Bonnie slammed rolling pin onto the counter and took a step toward Schmidt. Nick jumped in between them. "Okaaaay. Schmidt, why don't you wait on the almonds and put your salad together on the other counter?" He motioned to Winston to grab the large salad bowl and tongs. "I'm going to get Bob a non-flat beer, and I'll be riiiight back."

Winston grabbed the bowl and steered Schmidt to the other side of the kitchen as Nick jogged to the living room. Winston turned to Bonnie. "That lasagna smells great, Mrs. Miller," he said with an exaggerated smile. His words were met only with the sounds of Schmidt starting to whisk his salad dressing, and Bonnie slapping the dough onto a pie tin. "Yuuuuup," he continued. "There are times I dream about getting to eat that lasagna, and now that dream is coming true." Bonnie turned to say something, and the pan of almonds clattered to the floor. A look of shock crossed her face.

Schmidt gasped. "You…you..." he marched over to her and slapped his hand in a pile of freshly grated Parmesan cheese, sending chards of white cheese in every direction. Bonnie's eyes narrowed. "That was a mistake, sonny," she hissed.

A resounding crash from the living room drew Winston to the kitchen door. There he watched Coach hold Jamie in a headlock he called the Crab Lock Rangoon. The kids raced in circles, now with Jude and Sophie carrying the Godzilla toys that were dressed in pink doll dresses. "Give it back! Godzilla does not wear polka dots!" Walt yelled.

Over at the couch, Nick was trying frantically to grab the second beer from Bob. "It's fine, Rick. I'll just have a flat Heisler," Bob said. "I do not expect any special treatment as the father of your wife and the oldest member of this party." Nick climbed on the couch and draped his arms over Bob, trying to get his hands on the beer. "I'll get you a new one!" he growled, practically falling on top of Bob as they both clutched the beer bottle. "Give me the damn beer!" Nick yelled.

Winston sighed. He calmly looked down at the empty salad bowl and tongs. Propping open the swinging kitchen door, he took a deep breath. "ENOUGH, ALL OF YOU!" he screamed, banging the plastic tongs on the bowl over his head. Everyone in the house froze.

Looking down, Winston dropped the tongs into the bowl. "You are family – all of you. And I am NOT going through another Thanksgiving with the Millers where I will go hungry!" He pointed to Bonnie. "Mrs. Miller, you are one tough woman, but Schmidt's crazy will win every time." He tossed the bowl to Schmidt. "Schmidt, back up and give the woman room. Make your damn salad in the salad bowl, and she will blanch your nuts in her own sweet time!"

Jamie let out a loud chortle from his position under Coach's arm. Winston swung his gaze at Nick's brother. "Jamie, mushu is not a word for a ninja headlock. Coach, there is NO WAY Jamie can afford training from you, so let him go." Coach released him.

Winston turned to the couch. "Nick, get your hands off your father-in-law. And Bob, stop making it tough on Nick. You both love Jess, and you better find a way to deal with each other. So sit down and yell at the damn game like the angry idiots that you are." He walked over and grabbed the polka dotted Godzilla from Jude. "And mini-Millers, Coaches and Schmidts – anyone who is below my chest had better be helping Bonnie by getting plates, cups, napkins and anything else I need to eat. Then I want you OUTSIDE."

Everyone stared at Winston for a moment more. "This is it people," he yelled, waving the tongs over his head. "This is family. So get it in gear. NOW!"

All at once, everyone scattered. Nick eased off Bob and they sat on the couch, glaring at each other. Coach came to sit down by them. "Ooooh, America's Team is on."

Nick and Bob snapped in unison. "The Cowboys are NOT American's Team."

Coach shrugged, "Yeah, who cares? I get to see the cheerleaders."

Jamie sat down next to Coach. "God bless the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders." Nick and Bob glanced at one another, and gave a grudging nod.

After sanitizing the salad bowl, Schmidt assembled the salad while he and Bonnie agreed on the wrong way to shred cheese. The kids ran screaming to the backyard, but not before plates and cups were neatly stacked on the dining room table.

The door opened and Jess breezed into the room. "You're all here!" she smiled. "Dad, I found you a Mountain Brew House," she handed Bob a cold beer, before turning to her husband. "Nick, the ice is in the car. I had the kid at the store load it in the car. And, as you can see, I am not bringing it in, just like you asked." Bob offered a small smile to Nick, who rose to help his wife.

Winston looked over at Jess. "Here, I'll help you guys with the ice."

Bob took a large swing of his beer and smiled. "That's nice of you, Sharon."

Jess' brow furrow. "Who is Sharon?" Nick shot her a turtle face and shook his head slightly. Jess shrugged and looked around the house with a smile. "Aw, I just love when our family is together."

Winston gave her a wink. "Yup. We have a pretty great family, Jess. Happy Thanksgiving."


End file.
